


If Ever He Becomes My Boyfriend

by Winter_and_Summer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Glompfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:14:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3504665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_and_Summer/pseuds/Winter_and_Summer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco has a list. And oh what a list that is. But what if it got lost and landed in the hands of one Hermione Granger of all people? Plus, Potter had been really weird lately around Draco. An eighth year fic featuring our two beautiful boys with Pansy and Blaise being imba best friends and Ron being Ron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Ever He Becomes My Boyfriend

  
_10 Things I Will Do If He Ever Becomes My Boyfriend:_  
  
1\. See that hair that looks like a survivor from a violent typhoon? Yes, that. That fucking hair. I'll run my hand through that mess of a hair.  
  
2\. I will bring him to Fortescue. Ice cream is delicious, and so is he. Those two should be put in one place.  
  
3\. We'll walk through the Hogwarts grounds midst winter then I'll bury him with snow by throwing endless snowballs at his direction.  
  
4\. He's bollocks at Potions. I'll do his Potions essay and I'll persuade him to do my DADA. And maybe I could also offer some tutoring, but with something in return...  
  
5\. I'll snog him senseless in front of the Weaslette. Hahahahaha.  
  
6\. I'll challenge him in Quidditch and because he's my boyfriend, he'll be forced to let me win. That'll be my first win against him if ever. If ever...  
  
7\. After every Quidditch match, we will shower together inside the Quidditch showers. Mmmmmm.  
  
8\. I will force him—by seductive attempts Draco Malfoy style—to spend Christmas with me. It's fine for him to go to the headquarters of the Weasels, but the rest of the day will be only for the two of us.   
  
9\. We will meet secretly every night past curfew hours and do some little sneaky attempts that even Peeves would envy. And if my Harry's spectacles accidentally get broken while we're tracking an unknown passage inside the castle, I will fix it like the good boyfriend I am.   
  


 

Draco stared at his list. One more to go. Hmm...What would be the 10th? Maybe about Potter's delicious red lips...

He sighed. This is insane. After everything that took place, McGonagall, the new headmistress, required all the eight years to see a psychiatrist. The said psychiatrist is a good friend of the headmistress.

Everyone was obligated, and therefore, Draco was left with no choice but to consult the said psychiatrist. Her name was Ms. Sanchez; a dark brown-haired middle-aged woman from Wales. She was the one who advised Draco to write a list of things he wanted to do, said that it would help him foresee a brighter future and encourage him to go on.

The first list he wrote was about his dream careers: Potions Master, Healer, Professor, Professional Quidditch Player, etc. Truth is, the only career he wants is to be a Potions Master, and the rest are just plan b and c. After he had written this list, he crumpled it and threw it as hard as he can to the opposite wall, full of anguish and hatred to the world and to himself. He realised that even if he got straight E's in his Newts, and acquire a degree of mastery in Potions, no one would hire him. Maybe he will just end up as a clerk in some dingy Apothecary Shop in the outskirts of nowhere.

Next, he tried to list what he'll do after he graduates. Escape to France? Sell his things? Rent an apartment? Throw himself to Azkaban? All the possibilities are shit. This time, the list was not crumpled and thrown because Draco tore it to pieces. And that's exactly how he ended up having this list.

He was in the common room, tearing the damn paper into oblivion. When he looked up, he was there, staring at him. Green emerald eyes boring unto him, lips slightly parted and brows knitted in confusion. Draco raised his eyebrow at him and Potter looked away. That's how he got the idea to list what crazy things he would do if ever Potter is buck naked and panting by his side, in short, if ever he became his boyfriend.

At first, the ideas that came to him involved ropes, cuffs, Slytherin green sheets, sweat skin and cinnamon-scented lube. Those thoughts were not really a valid option since, aside from there are more than ten, writing each idea would turn into a long porn story, not a list. So instead, what he wrote were the smoochy little things he often imagined or dreamed late at night. While enclosed in his curtain-draped bed in the eighth years' dorm, where nobody is watching and throwing him fitful glares.

So far, he already successfully wrote nine of them. Just one more and he'll be finished. And then, just like the other lists, it will be destroyed in some way.

Draco looked around the library. He was supposed to finish his Charms essa, but it turned out that he got too engrossed with his Potter-daydream marathon. He heaved a sigh again. It's already past dinner time, it seemed like he's been here longer that he thought. He stared accusingly at his "If He Ever Becomes My Boyfriend" list.

"Damn Potter and his wretched existence," Draco swore.

"Shhhh," Madam Pince hissed harshly at him.

Draco turned to her and saw her pursed lips and persecuting eyes. These moments made Draco think how the old bat with all the wrinkles and lines can manage to scare even the Golden Boy of the Wizarding World. And then he remembered his mother and her lectures. Indeed, there are just women who have the talents. Madam Pince, Narcissa Malfoy, and let's not forget, Pansy Parkinson.

He looked away just in time to see the Golden Trio enter the library. As usual, the Weasel and little Miss Know-It-All were bickering noisily while Potter is trailing behind them and looking fondly at his two best friends. His hair still looked like a nest for small wild creatures and his clothes were still baggy and an insult to fashion. He's still wearing those revolting spectacles and he's still ridiculously smiling. Stupid Potter and his stupid handsome face

Draco gazed a bit longer than necessary. Then, all of a sudden, Potter's head turned to him. Their eyes met in a whirl of greys and greens. Draco inhaled sharply, time seemed to stop. Potter's eyes stared intently back at his, never looking away as he and his friends chose where to settle in the midst of wooden tables and bookshelves.

The ginger and Granger continued to argue with all the flying gestures and nonsensical facial expressions, not aware of the tension going on between their best friend and the blonde. They finally sat on a table across Draco's. Potter's eyes suddenly softened and it filled with something he can't point out. Then he...

Merlin's balls, did Potter just smiled at him?!

Draco stared dumbly at Potter's smiling face, all thin lips and twinkling eyes. It was not a big smile or one that shows a set of white teeth, it's just pure and real. When Draco felt the flush creeping through his face, he looked away immediately, not willing to let Potter see his blush.

He swallowed thickly and blinked many times. Damn it, his heart was beating so rapidly that it was hard to control his breathing. It was just a smile. Was he really that desperate that even a small smile could make his knees weak? Literally?

He stared intently at Charms and Its Nature as if it was the most exciting thing in the world. Draco scowled at the book that was lying open in front of him, never used since he had been busy doing 'other things' instead of researching for his essay about colour-related charms.

He rolled up his empty parchment, thrusted the quill inside his bag, and closed the book with more vigour and concentration than needed. Stood up curtly and made his way out, not daring to chance a glance at Potter.

The hair on his nape stood up as he felt eyes on him while walking through the door. He made a Slytherin discreet glance and saw that not only Potter but also Granger was staring after him. Granger looked like she's trying to figure him out, Potter looked daft and lost, and the Weasel was still chatting endlessly and appeared to be oblivious to the whole thing.

Draco went on his way and took note to write '10. Wink, smirk and lick my lips seductively whenever I catch my boyfriend stupidly staring at me.' at the list.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Hermione was annoyed, really really annoyed. How could Ron not understand that gnomes also have feelings?! The unjust and wrongful treatment of getting rid of gnomes is thoroughly inappropriate.

"But Hermione, it's already a part of the Wizarding culture. And also, those buggers deserve more than a little spinning."

"Oh, so you call it 'a little spinning'? Very well said, Ronald Weasley," Hermione scolded, hand flying to her hips.

"And do you know just how irritating those rotten potatoes are? You kick their arse hard and they'll come back the next day. You kick their arse harder and they'll come back the next week. They don't get enough Mione," Ron explained as they entered the library.

Hermione saw Malfoy but disregarded his presence. After all, the git has been meek the whole time after the war.

"I know that Ron, but there should be some other way."

"Fine. What is that other way?"

"I am still trying to figure it out," Hermione said as they sat and pulled out their parchment and quills. "The point is, the gnomes are grumpy because we are grumpy towards them. If that changed, we could possibly create a truce between the race of wizards and garden gnomes."

Hermione turned to Harry to ask his opinion about the matter, but their best friend was not paying attention to them, he was looking somewhere past Ron's shoulder. Hermione followed the direction of his gaze only to find Malfoy, staring back at Harry.

"...they steal food, Mione, food. That's sinful and should not be considered," Ron was saying.

"There's nothing else in your mind but food, aren't there?" Hermione tried to answer back, her attention divided between Ron and the goings-on between Harry and Malfoy.

To her shock, Harry suddenly smiled at Malfoy. Hermione pretended not to notice the whole exchange and was looking straight at Ron. Through her peripheral vision, she saw Malfoy look away and—to her utmost delight—a blush crept its way to Malfoy's nape. Now that says a lot.

"Well, food is what sustains our body. There's nothing wrong with thinking about food."

"There's nothing wrong with thinking about food, of course. Except if you are the one thinking about it."

"Hey!" Ron protested.

Hermione noticed that Malfoy stood up and was already making his way out of the library, and she also noticed that Harry is unashamedly staring after his retreating back. She sighed. Whatever it is between the two of, Hermione should step in and ask Harry before anything results to a mess. And since they are Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, it would inevitably turn out to a mess.

"Food is essential Hermione, I can't see why I'm not allowed to-"

"Okay, okay Ron. Calm down and try to breathe. Let's get over the food topic and start with our Charms essay," Hermione chastised hastily.

"So, what is it about again?" Harry finally spoke up after ages.

"It's about how the colours of sparks from the wand affect the magic," Hermione answered, standing up to look for the right books to start their research. "I think we can find an excellent book in that aisle."

"Wait," Harry called. "I saw Malfoy just a moment ago here and-"

"Malfoy is here?" Ron asked, looking around to spot the aristocrat.

"He already left, Ron. Anyway, as I was saying, I saw him reading a book. Maybe he's also researching for the same essay. We should check out the book." Harry finished as he pointed at the table that was previously occupied by Malfoy.

"Alright. I'll get it. You two start looking for books about our DADA essay." She then walked over to the said table and saw the familiar book that she had already used so many times for the other charm-related essays in her years at Hogwarts; Charms and Its Nature by Olivia Holmes.

She picked up the book, fingering the hard spine. She was about to open it when a paper slip from the inside of its pages. "10 things I will do if he ever becomes my boyfriend," Hermione read the heading of the parchment.

"Hey Mione, come on, we already found books that would do. I- What's that?"

"I don't know, looks like a list," Hermione informed Ron without taking her eyes away from the intriguing parchment.

"Whoa, I've always wanted to possess that kind of handwriting, all neat, diagonal and really…curvy. Though, the penmanship seemed familiar..." Ron commented.

"Because it is familiar.”

"Hey guys, what's taking you so long?" Hearing Harry's voice, Hermione quickly thrusted the paper inside her pocket.

"We saw a- aww!! What was that for?" Ron scowled at her, rubbing his pinched arm.

Hermione flashed an innocent smile. "It's nothing Harry."

"Y-yeah nothing mate. We just- we saw an ugly doodle of a gnome inserted inside the book. Just shows how hateful it is indeed."

Hermione glared at him. "Really? Can I see it? Those buggers are not proportional and look really weird. That doodle must be a feat to make," Harry said.

Ron panicked a bit then snickered. "No chance now, mate. Hermione already Vanished it to oblivion awhile ago."

"Well, are you two finished? Because we still have essays to do," Hermione asked irritably, but secretly she was proud of Ron's fast backup story.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

"Salamander's tail," Draco said and watched as the entrance of the Eighth Year dorms opened for him. He entered the noisy common room and searched for his little circle. Easily spotting the tall and dark brown figure of Blaise amidst the mix of greens blues and yellows, Draco strutted his way towards him.

"Hey Drake!" Blaise called out and Draco threw him a dirty glare. He knew how much Draco hated to be called like that. Because obviously, it's utterly disgusting and the very word means a sodding duck. And he's no way a duck. He may have gone through many bad things in his life, but he's still a Malfoy: smart, imposing and most of all, undeniably handsome. Not a duck.

"Shut up Blaise."

Draco slumped back heavily beside Blaise on the sofa. As usual, the day proved that nothing in his life will ever improve. Boring classes, long essays, damning research...and Potter. At least that last bit was interesting. Very interesting, indeed.

Draco was musing over the memory of green eyes and intense stare and warm smile when all of a sudden, Blaise slapped him hard on the back. The impact was so strong that Draco lost any remaining balance his lithe body might have and toppled over to the floor in a very unceremonious way.

"Oh for the love of-! What the fuck was that for?!" Draco spat indignantly, spearing for intimidation, but he knew that with his position it's a lost cause.

"My friend, my friend," Blaise bellowed as he helped Draco to get to his feet, causing some of the other eighth years in the room to turn curiously on them. "I was just doing my job seeing as you have once again fallen into the world of daydreams featuring our great Harry Potter, Vanquisher of the Dark Lord, Saviour of the Wizarding World, and hmm what else? Oh and Master of Quidditch."

"Stop this nonsense at once, Blaise," Draco chastised angrily and pretended that he's not blushing furiously. Blaise's voice was so loud that now, all the eyes were on him. Luckily, all the Gryffindorks were not present in the common room. Although, that loony Lovegood was giving him a funny look. But that's hardly worrying; the lunatic is always weird in every existing aspect in the world.

Blaise laughed boisterously and raised his hand dangerously near Draco's back. Draco quickly and warily stepped back, barely missing the huge hand that attempted to assault his still-aching-in-pain back side. The action made Blaise laugh even more and made Draco scowl with utmost feeling.

Confident now that the attention was not focused to him anymore, Draco crossed his arms and glared at Blaise. "I'm starting to question the very logic of our friendship.

"Is that so, Drake?" Blaise flashed a wide taunting smile.

"I'm going to our room now," Draco surrendered for the day, but of course, he'll plan his dark revenge first thing in the morning after a good and peaceful sleep. "I still have a Quidditch practice tomorrow."

Blaise waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I see. As far as I can remember, it's a Slytherin vs. Gryffindor practice isn't it?"

"Even just for a second, will you please stop all this Potter shits or so help me Merlin I'll-"

"Hey Draco, Blaise getting on your nerves again? Let me guess, he called you Drake?" Pansy chirped in.

"Indeed, Pansy dear. And I also happen to remind him about the perks of having a crush on Potter, which made him more, as you can see, a scowling monster."

Draco seethed. Just how did he become best friends with these people? Surely there were more sane ones that he met before.

"By Potter, do you mean that guy?" Pansy smirked haughtily and pointed to something over Blaise' shoulder. Both Blaise and Draco turned around and saw the Golden Trio laughing and talking as they enter.

Blaise elbowed Draco, it was friendly but damn, he's pretty sure it left a bruise. He elbowed Draco again and waggled his eyebrows at Potter. "There you go Drake, the love of your life."

Draco huffed and glared for the tenth time now. "As I was saying, I'm heading to our room to have an early rest." He gave them the finger then headed to the room shared by him, Blaise and Theo.

"Don't walk too fast dear!" Pansy called. Draco closed his eyes and counted to ten. He's not walking too fast, no. He's perfectly aware that his pace was moderate and fine. No, he was not walking fast and trying to escape Potter. No, Potter's presence was not making him twitchy and disturbed. No. Nope. Not at all.

Indulging himself with thoughts of ways to kill his friends slowly and precisely, Draco stopped in front of a door with the label: Malfoy, Zabini, Nott. Maybe he could just resort to Theo, at least that man has a good grip with his sanity.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Draco walked through the crunchy ground of the Quidditch Pitch, Nimbus 9000 clutched on one hand. His team was trailing behind him. Not that he's bragging, but his team this year was pretty good. Really good. And maybe, good enough to kick the arses of Potter's team.

Draco was now the coach of their house's Quidditch team, and so was Potter. He couldn't play or join the game, but at least he can go around, mandate, and enslave a group of aspiring little snakes. His team, unlike his love life, had improved so much. From the very start, he had assured to choose the perfect Seeker, two Chasers and a Beater, the only vacant positions in the team. He also tried to go with the lapses of each member, may it be a physical, social or personal problem.

Like his team captain, a seventh year Keeper named Jenna; a splendid leader with sneaky little tactics up her sleeves. But Draco observed on his first meeting with them that she was anxious, distracted and melancholic. Later on, Draco found out that this guy named Jason, one of the Beaters, was her boyfriend. She said that she caught him snogging another girl and eventually broke up with him. When Jenna opened up to him, Draco saw red.

"I see. Not that I'm any better at these things, but to be honest, I don't understand why you like him. You see, being a Beater really does suit him, not because of his skills, but because his face looks like a bludger," Draco remarked that time.

Jenna laughed. "You don't know how much that helped, Draco."

"Glad to be at service."

Just as Draco thought he already succeeded in improving his team captain's mood, Jenna's face clouded suddenly. "But..." she hesitated.”I'm more than happy now to get rid of that rotten bludger, but it's just..."

Draco watched as she fisted her hands and glared at her feet. "I really fucking hate him. How dare he cheat on me with that ugly Hufflepuff. How dare he use me just to enter the Slytherin Quidditch team. He-"

"Wait, he used you to enter the team?"

Jenna nodded stiffly and scowled. "And that's why he deserves the hex I cast on him; boils on his prick. Huh, good for him."

"Splendid indeed. I'm pretty sure he won't and can't ask for help from anyone with that hex. Merlin, it must be embarrassing to ask for help from Snape about your boiled prick. No wonder you're a Slytherin."

After that, in their next practice, he kicked Jason-the-bludger's arse from the team, which was why they ended up having a vacant position of Beater. It didn't really bother Draco, the guy was strong but shit if he can hit anything at all.

Draco was also proud that he was able to help his Chaser. Brian, a fifth year, was good. Very good. The only problem was that he lacked self-confidence. He always worried about the non-existent things and was never sure of himself. In the end, what he actually needed was not compliments, but bribery. Draco allowed him to use his Nimbus 9000 during games.

And also, he remem-

"Come on, Draco! You're walking too slow!" a squeaky little voice yelled.

Draco turned his head and saw the little prat, his small but terrible Seeker. "I understand you're getting old, Draco. But you should strive, exercise. Come on, move those joints!"

"I think this is the perfect time to remind you that I am your coach. In case it still hasn't hit home, I can change any member of the team I wish to, Caleum."

Caleum Rigel Harrison smiled cheekily and Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh no, you won’t. I'm your favourite and you will never kick me out of the team. I know you Draco, I knoooooow yooouuuuu."

"Help me Merlin," Draco sighed. The little monster was a blessing in disguise to the Slytherin Quidditch team. He was almost like the young Seeker Potter, almost. Except that he's well, obviously, a Slytherin inside out. He's a little first year, quick and vigilant, but also bloody annoying and sometimes...irresistibly cute. But of course he didn't need to know that, his ego was already big enough to erase global poverty if ever it was turned into a food after all.

"Alright!" Draco called loudly to his team. "The Gryffindors aren't here yet, but let's start practicing anyway." As each of them started to mount their brooms, Draco faced Caleum. "And you, young man, I heard you've been having a little annoy-me-as-much-as-you-can play with a Chaser from the Gryffindor team."

Caleum wrinkled his nose in disgust. "He's a prick you know."

"Of course, all Gryffindor is."

The little monster nodded solemnly then ran off and mounted his broom as well. The group started their practice, his Chasers and Keeper competing with each other and flying after the quaffle intently. His beaters perfecting their aim. And his little seeker...

Draco secretly smiled fondly at the haughty raven-haired grey-eyed boy. He's superb and keen, but, on the other hand, really devious and sly. And damn, he badly reminded him of himself when he was at that age: smug, over-confident, and an absolute prick. But of course, they're not the same. This kid has a better future waiting for him, not a rotten one the Draco was forced to be stuck into.

"Malfoy!" a masculine voice called. Draco turned around, knowing fully well who owned that voice.

"Potter."

Potter smiled at him.

What now? He's been smiling at Draco these days and damn, it's always unnerving; made Draco's breathing hitched and stopped his nerves from working properly. Maybe Potter was trying to murder him with his smile? Well, that would be ingenious indeed. But as attractive and hot Potter might be, he's not that clever. So maybe no.

"You're late, Potter. We decided to start practicing on our own, I believe that's okay?

Potter blinked, but the smile never faded. "Sure, n-no problem."

He looked unsure and nervous. He was also stuttering. Could it be that the Boy-Who-Lived was cursed or jinxed? The nerve of that person!! How dare they curse his Harry?! He or she will pay and-

"So let's start now?"

Draco broke his train of thought. "Alright."

Draco and Potter both called their teams and the kids went to their respective positions in the pitch, glaring and scoffing against the other team like some immature teenagers. Except that of course, most of them are indeed teenagers. And immature.

Draco rolled his eyes. He had been there, done that, and well, all he could say was that it couldn't be helped. Slytherin and Gryffindor were born to be the polar opposite of the other. They're like...black and white, fire and water and all that shite.

"Hey, Malfoy," Potter approached.

Draco started indignantly as he was too engrossed with his musings that he had not noticed Potter. "Hmmm?"

"It's been quite some time now since the last time I played Quidditch."

"Me too," Draco replied tersely.

"You haven't played Quidditch that long too?"

Draco raised his eyebrow. "I thought I already answered that question."

"Oh. So...so we're the same."

"We are."

"Then, wanna play Quidditch?"

"Have you eaten your breakfast, Potter? You very well know that we are not allowed to join the game. Our sole role is to coach, only coach."

Potter laughed. Damn, maybe the poor guy really did knock his head hard. Was this already Draco's cue to call for Pomfrey

"I'm talking about joining the game, Malfoy. I'm merely asking if you want to play Quidditch. Seeker vs. Seeker. The kind, you know,” Potter tried to explain.

“That’s just plain childish an-“

“Why, scared Malfoy?

Damn, Potter really did know how to provoke Draco’s sense of challenge. Draco narrowed his eyes and mentally listed all the possible reasons why Potter would go all hey-I want-to-play-Quidditch suddenly and out of the fucking blue. He just blurted it out as if it’s a whole lot normal to ask your archnemesis to play a friendly match, as if they were friends, as if they had not been enemies, as if there was no war, as if Draco had not made a fool of himself and followed around a mad man like a sick puppy, as if-

“So what do you think?”

Potter looked straight to his eyes and smirked. Smirked. Just when did he learn to smirk? That’s it. The glint in Potter’s oh-so-green eyes did it.

“Fine. But when will this said it’s-been-a-long-time match happen?”

“After this practice,” Potter declared smugly.

Draco raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “I think you've simply gone insane, Potter. Do you realise that-"

"Not ready for an impromptu performance?"

Draco closed his eye shut and inhaled deeply. Here we go again. Seriously, how was it possible that you're ultimate crush ultimate enemy knew how to persuade you so well? Draco was starting to think that Potter was slowly growing some Slytherin mutations in his cells.

"You seem to look so desperate, Potter. And as the kind and considerate person I am, then I guess I am left with no other choice but to say," Draco paused and crossed his arms for effect, "...fine," he said with a begrudging tone.

After four suspicious goals from the Gryffindors and an excellent dive for the Snitch by his very own Caleum, the practice finished with a close score in favour of Slytherins. Of course.

Draco then clapped his hands loudly and called the practice to an end. He turned to Potter and saw him smile widely, probably because of excitement for their impending 'friendly Seeker vs. Seeker match'. "I assume you got a Snitch there?'

The brunette smirked haughtily and tapped the pocket of his trousers. "This guy's a boy scout, you know."

"Boy- what?" Draco asked in confusion.

"Boy scout. It's a Muggle thing. It's- Never mind," Potter struggled to explain. "Come on, let's usher the kids." Potter then started walking towards where the kids landed.

Draco followed suit and heard two squeaky voices arguing.

"You cheated!" a first-year blond shouted and pointed an accusing finger at Caleum.

Caleum sniffed indignantly. "How about let's just accept the fact that your Seeker is lame, you prick!"

"You insane Slythe-"

"Ken!" Potter scolded. "How about you two stop fighting like seven-year olds. Jacob, kindly escort Ken to the Quidditch showers."

At that moment, Potter really looked like the responsible and intimidating leader he was. Potter might be a prick at times and certainly mad most days, but he'd grown and matured. Or at least, somehow.

Draco felt the urge to do his job as well and went to Caleum.

"So Cal, I think there's a matter at hand that we should discuss," Draco started, crossing his arms.

"He's the one who started it, the git!"

Draco gave him one of his sternest glare, though reluctant he was.

The small brunette pouted.

"Hm... And may I ask what the name of this git is?"

"Kennedy Charles fucking Lewis, the bane of my existence."

"Pretty much worked up just because of a first-year Gryffindor?"

"Whatever does that mean?" Cal asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Nothing of course. By the way, your hair is in utter disarray. Were you attacked by some drug-induced wrackspurts? You definitely look like a mini-Potter now."

Draco swallowed back a threatening laugh as he watched Cal's eyes dramatically widen like saucers. "You're joking."

"I hope I am, but looking at you, it's quite unlikely," Draco said to the scowling brunette, who, if not for the lack of spectacles,kk would really look like a mini-Potter.

He watched as the little boy run for the showers. Vain. Which actually made Draco remember even more of his younger self. Not that his vain-ness lessened now that his grown-up.

As Draco stared after Cal's retreating back, a disturbing thought kept nagging at the back of his mind. Two first years hating each other. Another Gryffindor vs. Slytherin shite. Really? Could fate at least show some originality sometimes? And let's not forget that Caleum was a brunette and the Ken kid was a blond. Wow. Very wow.

The memory of him and Potter face to face and sneering at each other suddenly came up to Draco's mind. Their first silly duel.

As if on cue, Potter suddenly appeared in front of Draco, grinning like a fool. But this Potter was different. He's not the first-kyear speccy git anymore. He's now a man, all muscles, well-toned corners, and stupid grin face.

The said Potter presented his fisted hand in front of Draco’s face, slowly opened it and revealed a sleeping Snitch. Potter tapped it once with his wand and immediately, the wings of the golden bundle fluttered. The Snitch hovered around them for awhile before taking off and getting lost from their sight.

"Here," Potter said as he handed Draco a broom he did not even notice the git was carrying.

"Prepare to lose, Scarhead."

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Draco was furious. Oh, just how furious he was. He was so furious that he could've Incedio-ed anyone at range if not for the bloody school rules. Damn, how he hated this day. How he hated Potter. He stomped his way to the Eighth Year dorms, glaring at everyone in sight. All the students stepped aside and gave him a wide berth, probably noticing the dark aura vibrating from him. Or maybe they're just afraid because of course, he's a sodding ex-Death Eater who made all the wrong choices and-

"Malfoy! Wait!" Potter's voice came ringing through the corridor, just as Draco reached the entrance at the Eighth Year dorms.

"Save it, Potty. I'm not listening to your crap."

"Wait- what? Hey! I don't even know why- But why are you mad? You just won the game...how come?" Potter's face was a mirror of confusion and hurt. Draco chose not to care.

"And here I am thinking that getting older will make you a tad smarter. Apparently, nothing improved. The world must be really taking its piss on me for putting such a stupid arse like you in my life," Draco drawled.

Potter frowned and looked even more hurt.

Draco inwardly winced at the pained expression of Potter. Just when did he get do Hufflepuff towards Potter? To Potter of most people? "Okay fine. Look Potter, I don't know what the hell you want from me, but I'm not in the mood for playing. If you'd be so kind, just fucking find some other people to play around with." Draco turned to leave, dismissing him. But Potter was having none of it.

He grabbed Draco's arm and the blond halted. "Call me stupid, but I don't really understand what's happening in here. You caught the Snitch and won the game. Then you suddenly bolted away. What the heck, Malfoy?"

“Very nice of you to say that I won the game, Potter. Even if you obviously lost on fucking purpose."

"I- I did not!" Potter stammered. "You saw it. I lost my balance and my broom swayed to-"

"Oh please, save your breath. I don't need your bloody explanation. And for lack of a better example, a gnome Potter, a gnome is a far better liar and actor than you are."

"But you really did win!" the prat insisted.

"Fine, I get it. You're better, no strike that, you're the best. You're good at everything and I'm not. That's why you propose this silly little match, right? To show me that I can never win unless you purposely lose?" Draco panted when he finished, ignoring the bitterness in his tone. Potter started opening his mouth again, but Draco already walked away, not really caring -- or knowing -- where he was going.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

The following day, Draco found himself burying his nose to his Charms essay. He already spent half of his Sunday inside the library, and he's not planning to do otherwise for the next hour or so still. It might look as if he was hiding, but nope, he's not hiding inside the safe walls of Madam Pince. And he's not trying to avoid bumping on Potter. And he's absolutely not affected with anything to do with Potter. He's merely doing his responsibility as a good 'ol student. Besides, if he really wanted to get straight O's, then sitting his arse inside the library was the right thing. Not playing Quidditch with some arrogant bastard who-

"Hey Malfoy!"

Draco stiffened. Wow. So the git was not giving up.

Oh come on, Draco Malfoy, you knew very well how stubborn that git can be!

The blond refused to acknowledge the voice or even turn his head. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated on the book in front of him. Charms can be tricky when it come to animals and Muggle electrical devices... He heard the scrape of the empty chair beside him. There could be varieties of ways to get through... A figure sat on the chair; a suspicious, messy-haired brunette to be exact.

"What are you reading? Looks pretty boring," Potter's voice came up. It sounded a little too cheerful and a little too friendly and a little too weird.

Draco closed his eyes shut and counted to ten. No, it's best to just ignore the prat and pretend that his life was perfectly normal and Potter-less. He didn't wish to fall into another scheme of this prat, after all.

"Charms? Really? You've vanished the whole morning inside this library just to do a Charms essay? Oh, no fun! You can do better than that, Malfoy."

Now Draco was staring hard at the book, barely reading any of it. What was it with Potter now? Suddenly getting all friendly and hey-mate? Draco already had enough of that yesterday. He knew the pattern. Potter would come strolling in with all smiles and deceiving 'friendly words'. Then Draco would helplessly --and very unwisely -- fall into whatever the git will be saying or asking. Then he will spontaneously ruin Draco's day just by merely existing. Though, he could not really blame Potter. All those years of taunting and bullying must have struck pretty hard on him. And now this. And now Potter. The git wouldn’t make it easy for him, would he?

"You're not even reading, you're just staring at the page," Potter unhelpfully pointed out. So now he's observant. Surprising. And it seemed that Potter was happily pretending that what happened yesterday ceased to exist at all. And it also seemed that Potter would not be leaving any sooner.

With a long suffering sigh, Draco closed the book heavily and turned to the man beside him.

"What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want?"

Potter flashed him a smile. And no, Draco would never admit that Potter looked so cute like that. Even if he really did.

"So... looks like you're pretty worked up with your Charms essay. How about your DADA essay? When are you planning to start with it?"

Oh, what an excellent topic of conversation, not at all boring and definitely enjoying.

"As I'm not busy soaking up praises and kissing foreheads of babies unlike you, I managed to finish it yesterday Potter," Draco drawled. "And wait, am I suppose to ask you if you've finished yours too like the usual style of how-nice-the-weather-is or how-you-want-to-catch-up-with-each-other-conversation?"

Potter only frowned in response. But there's something else. Dare he say that there's a hint of disappointment in those green eyes? Great. Now he somehow disappointed Potter, just how he disappointed his parents and the whole fucking Wizarding World.

"Oh fuck this!" Draco resigned, earning a hiss from Madame Pince. "Stop running around the bush, Potter. Why are you here?!"

Potter actually had the nerves to look sheepish and scratch his head. "I came to learn."

To learn? This was bloody insane. Draco simply replied with an even stare, unimpressed.

"Err... I was hoping that you could help me with my Potions essay. And in return, I'll help you with your DADA."

Draco's eyebrows practically flew up, getting lost behind his blond fringe. “You want me to help you with your Potions essay? Is that even normal, in every sense of the word?"

"I don't if it's obvious but I'm not really close friends with chopping insects and stirring slimes," the other boy defended.

Now Draco's eyebrows were back and his eyes were narrowed in suspicion. "And where's your two little minions? As I recall, one of them is very well capable to help you without you needing to approach the person you hate the most."

"Firstly, I don't hate you. And secondly, Ron and Hermione are somewhere doing things you'd rather not know.”

Draco shivered in disgust. "Please spare me the details."

Potter smiled at this, and again, there's that twinkle in those green eyes that Draco was getting familiar with. He would've wanted to ask about the 'I don't hate you anymore' but Draco knew better than to believe those words. For all he knew, Potter was just fooling around and hiding the bomb somewhere only to drop it on Draco's face when he already felt like it.

"So can you please tutor me?" Potter asked with a hopeful face that did not affect Draco at all. And no, it was not the reason for any strange fluttering butterflies he may have felt in his stomach. Nope, not affected at all.

"Wait, I thought you said you only want me to help you in your essay. Where does tutoring come from now?"

Potter only smiled cheekily. “I could also help you with your DADA lessons. Come on, Malfoy. Don't deny it, it's a good deal."

"Let me get this straight, you went here to assault me because you need help and apparently little Ms. Know-it-all and the Weasel are unavailable and are doing Merlin knows what. You want me to help you in your essay and you want me to tutor you in Potions," Draco said and Potter nodded eagerly.

"So what do you think?"

"That's it. You’re barking mad. I'm outta here," Draco declared as he stood up, creating a loud scraping sound from the chair. Madame Pince glared at him so hard that Draco thought it might actually be possible to kill somebody with a fitful glare. He felt a hand pulling him, and he slumped back helplessly on the chair. He turned back his head from Madame Pince's glare only to be face to face with Potter's devastated expression.

"It's not too much to ask for Malfoy." Now he sounded like a kicked puppy.

Draco contemplated on the possible consequences if he said yes. Surely, nothing would hurt if he agreed to do Potter's bidding, but-

"And besides, Malfoy, I promise to return the favour by helping you with anything to do about DADA. That's quite a fair deal right?" the Prat-Who-Lived said with that hopeful expression.

Now he's acting like a Slytherin. Damn, maybe Draco's theory about Potter's cells mutating into some sort of Slytherin cells was correct after all. Though, there's something off with Potter's words. It feels like Draco already knew what Potter was talking about, feels like the words were too familiar and a bit nostalgic. Pushing away the odd feeling, Draco turned to Potter. "Well then, which part of the essay do you exactly need help?"

Potter gave him a goofy smile. "Everything."

 

>•••••••|•••••••

 

The next day and the day after that, and on the following more days, Potter kept on assaulting him in the library. Draco thought that their 'deal' was only a one-time thing, only for that particular topic in Potions. But then Potter kept on coming to the library in search for him to present his never-ending questions--which most were very unreasonable like 'Why the need to stir it clockwise, I mean, stirring it whichever way doesn't really give a fuck to the potion, right? Right Draco?!--and they even started studying together on other subjects now. Draco spared himself the headache of questioning Potter 's motives and reminding him that their 'deal' was only limited to Potions, and just continued on doing whatever they're doing because he's pretty sure Potter would pull another one of his questionable stunts that mysteriously made Draco yes every time. The weird thing was Draco didn't mind at all. He didn't mind Potter's cheeky remarks, his completely unrelated and insane questions, his desperate attempts on jokes and especially his not-so-subtle chuckles whenever Draco was starting to get pissed off with him. In fact, if Draco wanted, he could stop this all by just not turning up in the library. But he always went, and he always sighed when there's something ne Potter needed help with, and he always rolled his eyes each time Potter promised that it would be the last.

Over the days, they already had an unspoken routine. Draco would go to the library as soon as the last subject in the afternoon ended, and Potter would follow. They would start with Draco's essay in DADA if there were any, then they would proceed to Potions. And in the last minute before dinner time, Potter would unashamedly ask for help with topics completely far from Potions.

Why do you think unicorns have silver-coloured blood?" Potter blurted out suddenly as they were herding their things and preparing to leave the library for dinner.

Draco merely raised his eyebrows and looked at him amusedly in response, not willing to give in with Potter's creepy questions about the universe and the shit in it.

"I mean, really, silver? Can't it be gold or blue or maybe white?" the other boy pushed.

Draco sighed in defeat. In the absence of Granger, to knock some sense on Potter became his job. "You really want to know? Unicorns are all about innocence and beauty, and it's literally running within their veins because silver is the colour of purity and immeasurable beauty."

Draco watched as Potter shook his head in amusement. "You're only saying that because your eyes are silver-grey."

"Exactly," Draco replied smugly.

"Well, although your eyes are indeed tantalizing and attractive, I don't think they look innocent at all."

Draco rolled his eyes, grabbed his bag, and went ahead; all the while trying hard not to think about Potter's comment about his tantalising and attractive eyes.

Right now, Draco was happily enjoying his moment of peace as he sat on the grass by a loyal tree--his favourite spot. He always came here every Sunday to enjoy the weather and the view of the lake whilst reading a book, except for winter seasons of course. And nope, he hadn't been thinking about Potter while absently flipping the pages of a novel as he sat here under the bright sunshine of a Sunday morning.

He heard a voice calling out his name and he immediately recognised that voice. Wincing inwardly, Draco prepared himself for the upcoming ambush of his two very trustworthy friends as he saw them approach him in his peripheral vision. He determinedly position himself to look relaxed and poised and doing anything but thinking of Potter.

He knew that sooner or later his friends would know about his little formed acquaintance with Potter and would therefore do everything to torment him about it in every chance possible.

"So how's Mr. Draco Malfoy-Potter doing?" Pansy asked happily as she cast a spell to make the grass seat-able and proceeded to sit beside Draco.

Draco scowled at his book.

"Seems like our friend here doesn't fancy sharing his little trip to the library every afternoon and his secret plans to elope with Potter," Blaise teased, sitting beside Draco as well.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Draco erupted. He greatly preferred to ignore their existence but he knew very well that their voice would be louder and louder until the whole of Hogwarts will think that he's crawling for Potter's attention and desperately in need to show his fucking undying love for him. Which was of course, completely untrue.

Blaise and pansy ignored his qualms. "Hey Blaise! Have you heard of that particular word called 'denial'?"

"Yeah!" Blaise shouted back. And Draco was definitely seeing red now. "I think that's the word which meant insisting that something is not true even though anyone with two healthy eyes can see clearly how crazy in love this particular person is to the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-Draco's-Sperm-Cells-Useless!"

"Merlin stop will you?! Fuck, what do you want?" Draco snapped, glaring holes at the two of them.

"Oh, nothing dear," Pansy was the one to reply. "We're just claiming our revenge for being the last to know about your Potter-pursuit business. And since that's all settled for now, tell us, how are your dates with Potter?"

Draco scowled with utmost feeling at their smirking faces and asked all the possible deities listening how the heck he ended up being stuck with these barely sane people.

"We're just having study sessions and no, there's nothing close to dating at all. I'm not crazy in love with him and if I want I can put my sperm cells on use with or without the presence of Potter in my life, thankyouverymuch. And no, don't open your mouth to say a fucking word Blaise. I refuse to answer any more of your horrid questions and I also refuse to acknowledge that I know you two at all," Draco said all in one breath.

Pansy only raised a scrutinising eyebrow and Blaise only rolled his eyes at him. And just as Draco thought they would already leave him alone, Pansy's face lit up and a devious creepy smile painted her face.

"And speaking of Potter," she announced.

Without thinking, Draco quickly turned his head to the direction of Pansy's gaze. He heard Blaise snicker, probably overjoyed to see Draco's swift reaction upon hearing Potter's name. Draco cursed silently.

But all thoughts of cursing and revenge immediately fled his mind when he saw that indeed, the Golden Trio where there--laughing and walking by the lake. He watched as they stopped and Granger patted Potter's shoulder as if for support. The Weasel scowled and sighed, shaking his head in what seemed like defeat and proceeded to pat Potter's shoulder as well. Potter grinned at them--and oh those green eyes--and waved goodbye as the two went to the opposite way, leaving Potter alone by the lake. Draco almost, almost, forgot that his two traitorous friends were still beside him and were still breathing. And waiting to eat him alive.

Pansy sketched a fake exaggerated cough. "Come on Blaise, let's leave our little boy here to handle this personal matter."

Blaise gave out a staged sigh. "Oh my, oh my, dearest Pansy. I just can't believe that our young little Draco is already falling in love. Just how fast years pass by."

"I think I'm going to have a headache. Somebody please save me," Draco whined helplessly as he scowled for the umpteenth time already.

And as if he was heard by Potter calling someone to save him, the git turned to then and smiled at Draco, starting to walk towards their spot.

"And there you go. Ding ding ding, here's your order sir, one Harry Potter Savior of the Wizarding World on a silver platter to rescue you!" Pansy squeaked and swiftly stood up, dragging Blaise with her.

"Have fun my friend! Don't forget about protection charms!" Blaise called out one last time and then they're gone. Merlin, finally gone.

Luckily for Draco, Potter seemed to hear none of Blaise' protection charms advise and went to squat beside Draco, occupying Blaise' former spot.

"Where are your friends going? They seem to be in a hurry," Potter enquired nosily.

"For once in a lifetime you've finally showed some signs of being observant, Potter," Draco said. But of course, the venom that once stained his words was already long gone. Since their 'deal', Draco discovered that the now-usual bantering and Potter's gibbering was not that bad. In fact, he found it rather...enjoying.

"So should I put this in my diary since being able to observe is such a great achievement," Potter said sarcastically, playfully jabbing Draco's arm.

"Oh and don't forget to put the date today, and maybe consider putting as well the weather," Draco put in with a taunting smile.

Potter smiled back at him. And nope, Draco did not feel any weird tingling through his spine at all just because of a fucking smile. Although, the fact that he was staring at Potter's smiling face was pointed out on him when he realised that he lapsed with the conversation.

"...and of course, I'll credit you in my diary as well because you're the one who noticed my observation skills for the day and-"

Draco rolled his eyes when he interrupted Potter's mutterings. "As much as I'm honoured to be part of Harry Potter's Life Story that will be published years from now, when we would already be predictably dead, I'm rather more interested with why on Merlin's name are you here and sitting on the grass with me?" Draco punctuated his words with a raised eyebrow.

"Come on, don't say that. We all know you like my very disturbing and exhilarating presence," Potter countered with a goofy smile of his own.

Potter was positively having fun now. He's got all this giddy gestures and the familiar twinkle in his very green eyes was present as well. Not fair. Potter was enjoying ruining Draco's day by day just simply, turning up and breaking his peaceful and Potter-less ambiance (not that he's at peace when Potter arrived, he's been ambushed by his friends after all). While Draco, on the other hand, had been...-well, it's his day that was being ruined, wasn't it?

"Spare me your desperate attempts on humour, Potter. Seriously, why are you really here? No wait, scratch that. Why are you rudely invading my Sunday like whilst I thought I'm only meant to labour during weekdays?"

"Well," Potter shifted so that they're face to face now, "I know that our deal was only for the essays and taking me in Potions but..."

"Oh Merlin, you're gonna ask doe something more, are you? Isn't seeing my beautiful face up close every day not an enough incentive for you?"

Potter grinned. "But, of course, seeing your perfect smooth blond hair, playful grey eyes, and soft pink lips make me very thankful everyday to live my life. Though, what I was talking about was our project in Potions,"

Draco blinked. He had not really gotten over fast with the perfect smooth blond hair, playful grey eyes, and soft pink lips. Had Potter really thought about how soft his lips were? Or how perfect his hair was? Merlin forbid, was Potter flirting with him?

"Err...Draco?"

That snapped Draco back to the real world.

"Oh...the project, you say? But wasn't it just about creating a Pepper-Up Potion? Merlin, even Longbottom would probably manage it without much catastrophe Potter. You don't need any help."

Potter's face frowned in thought. "Maybe you're right but...still. I need to perfect this Malfoy. I need at least a fucking E on my grades. And obviously, if I can't pass my NEWTs, I won't be able to enter the Auror Training Program, and you'll be damned all your life with your conscience."

Draco wanted to shout to him that the Ministry would obviously still let him get into it even if he did not take any NEWTs at all. They would probably even make him the Minister of Magic if he only asked. You're the Saviour of the Wizarding World for fuck's sake!

But Draco knew better that to stir another fight with this odd, but likeable man. He knew as much as he recognised the back of his hand what gets into Potter's nerves, he had 7 years of practice after all.

So he settled with a sigh. "Do I really have a choice? Do I? You're the great Harry Potter and I'm just a meek and humble friend who has a heart of gold," Draco purred dramatically. "And thank you for thinking that contrary to popular belief, I do have a conscience."

Slowly, a wide grin settled on Potter's face. Before Draco could even blink, Potter enveloped him into a bear hug that would've been awkward if not for the contagious happiness radiating from Potter.

"Damn, I think I could kiss you!" Potter exclaimed as he let of Draco to let him breathe. "Thank you, Malfoy. I knew I could really count on you."

"Whatever Potter. Just don't get so Hufflepuff-ish about it. With that said, don't you dare go all emotional and soppy just because of this, or I will reconsider my decision."

Potter rolled his eyes and started to get up, the wide smile and twinkle in his green eyes still plastered on his face. "See you after dinner in front of the Eighth Year entrance, Malfoy."

Draco frowned in confusion. Surely, Potter was not talking about tutoring or the project right? "Why-"

But Potter was already gone.

And at that moment, he realised that he just called himself as Potter's friend.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Draco's desperate attempts to avoid Pansy and Blaise were put to waste the moment he entered the Eighth Year dorms. He planned to wait there for awhile before heading to the Great Hall so as not to, unfortunately, cross path with his two notorious--yes, notorious, that's the right word--best friends. But as much as Draco was a Slytherin in soul and in flesh, his friends were as well. It turned out that Blaise was already in the Great Hall, in case Draco decided to go straight there, and Pansy was there in the common room in case--which was actually the case right now--Draco would got to their dorms first. And that's how he ended up being violently dragged by an excited and absolutely unstable Pansy.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy!" Pansy all but bellowed as she gripped Draco's arms and led the way to the Great Hall. "Where are the 15 years of friendship? After all that we've been through and all the secrets that we shared, you're deprive me of this? This of all things?!" she wailed dramatically, attracting curious looks from the other students they passed by.

"Merlin's glowing bollocks, Pansy! Is there really a need to shout that loud?!" Draco hissed. He tried to pull his arm to no avail.

"I am a woman, Draco. We have our own ways of getting what we want," she threatened, and then a scary smirk formed on her face. "And you know what my ways are, honey."

Draco scowled wholeheartedly. Really? Was this all life could give him after all his efforts to change and avoid any more lurking madman with a high tide problem regarding a lack of nose?

"Alright, mademoiselle. I'll tell you whatever happened earlier when you left me with Potter, but I must warn you that there was no such thing as dating, plans to elope, or unlikely pornographic details."

Pansy's grin made Draco's stomach drop. He’s not sure if he made the right decision.

"Everything's settled then. And now, will you escort me to the Great Hall so that we can find Blaise and have a little chitchat with the latest goings-on of our lives. Especially your life."

Draco rolled his eyes and mimicked a pose as if to invite Pansy to dance. "As you wish, Pansy darling."

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Draco was now walking through the corridors of the third floor, where the Eighth Year dormitory entrance could be found. It was McGonagall's idea; joining all the returning eighth years in one dorm instead of placing them in their separate houses. It was all about those unity shites and this and that. Nevertheless, it had not been as bad as Draco expected.

The Ravenclaws had been smart enough to keep to themselves and leave the Slytherins alone and pretend they don't exist. But there were some Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, who preferred to spit on them at every passing moment. That was only at first though, because one fateful day Potter saw Goldstein bumping Draco purposely--and hard--along the hallways. Draco could still remember the fuming face of Potter and the gobsmacked expression of Goldstein that day. Potter called out Goldstein, no not called out, more like spat his name. Goldstein turned, surprised. Potter's eyes were gleaming with anger and his magic prickled all around the area. If looks could kill, Goldstein would've dropped dead that moment.

"H-Harry?" Goldstein stammered, looking around wildly.

"What the fuck Anthony? Did you really have to shove Draco? Or maybe you'd prefer me to ask like this: Did you really have to bump on Malfoy, on purpose?"

"I-I...I was just..."

"I've heard that still many of the others do not accept the presence of Slytherins, but I didn't know you lot would resort to this. Fuck, this is not what I fought for. I did not do all that shit just to see that--come on, I know that those people are insufferable and had done mistakes in the past, but so did we. Apparently, we're just lucky enough not to be born with parents who insanely want to drag their son with them and in their mad ways. The war had been hard, but it had been hard for all of us. I'm really grateful for those who fought with me, but know what? I fought not only for those who were with my side, but also for those who were forced to beat the other side of that Merlin-forsaken war. Really, what's the point of it all?" Potter breathed heavily, face red with anger. His eyes flickered to Draco's direction a second or two before saying," And with that, the Boy-Who-Lived turned and walked away briskly.

Many crowded around to watch the commotion that day; many had heard; many had seen. And since then, Slytherin had been slowly welcomed. Not warmly and quickly, but at least it was something. Although the effect did not reach the lower years since they still evidently threw glares at Draco and to the others, all in all, it was a good thing. And Draco found his little crush on Potter become a tad bit deeper--just a tad.

"Hey Malfoy!" a voice called, cutting Draco's musings. Draco snapped out of his trance and blinked. He's already in front of the Eighth Year dorms without him noticing and Potter was approaching him.

Potter tilted his head and furrowed his brows. Merlin did he look so cute at that moment. Wait--did he just put 'Potter' and 'cute' in one sentence? Maybe having all those musings was not good for his health. "You seem to be floating while you're walking," Potter remarked, and then he leaned so close Draco could smell treacle tart everywhere. "I do not suppose you're daydreaming about me, are you?"

Draco's eyebrows shot up at Potter's statement, trying hard to stop a blush from creeping out. "Have you tried visiting the infirmary today, Potter?"

Potter laughed and stepped back. Draco immediately missed the smell of treacle tart. No, wait, he absolutely did not miss Potter's scent. That's just...ridiculous.

"So are you ready?" Potter asked so casually as if what he's asking was completely understandable for Draco's ears. Which was not.

"What exactly are you on about, Potty? Maybe you can elaborate your words clearly?"

"Oh, you don't know? Well, I figured out that if you're gonna help me perfect my Pepper-Up potion, we'll need a place to practice. And that's what we're doing tonight, find a place to do all out knick knacks," Potter finished with a grin.

Draco crossed his arms and frowned. "Let me start my statement with: Are you barking mad? Well, of course, you are. It's almost past curfew! We could still do this tomorrow or-"

"I just assumed the Prince of Slytherin could be game in sneaking around past curfew and explore hidden places and secret pathways in the castle," Potter interrupted with a smirk.

Draco was rendered speechless. Did Potter just say 'explore hidden places and secret pathways'? "Mm, I see your point there, Potter," Draco replied coolly after some time. "Had your life been so boring lately, not that your two loyal minions have been shagging from time to time, that you've become so eager to do late night adventures with yours truly?"

"Maybe."

"But since it's still not past curfew, and clearly sneaking around won't be 'sneaking around' if we do it with many students--and teachers and Filch--still strolling around the whole castle, what exactly are we gonna do right now? Are we gonna talk about our feelings as all of the other eighth year students walk pass by us to enter our dorm until the end of curfew hours will finally bless us with its presence?"

Potter sighed. "Sometimes, I think that you're only doing all that talk with so many words just to make my head ache and make me feel like an idiot. Anyway, I planned to go to the kitchens. We'll eat some snacks and pack some food as well so that we'll have something to eat like doing all that menacing 'illegal explorations'," Potter declared. "I think I fancy treacle tart right now," he added.

"You always fancy treacle tart. I bet you even wank over it," Draco remarked haughtily as one-fifth year--or maybe that was a fourth year--passed by them and glared at him. "But really, seriously Potter? I mean, seriously? We just ate dinner. And now you're thinking about bloody snacks. Is this one of your secret plans to destroy me, by making me fat?"

Potter snickered and grabbed Draco's hands. Draco was surprised but did not take his hand back. "Scared to add some curves on that perfect lithe figure?" Potter teased as he dragged Draco to the direction of the kitchens.

"I already have enough curves, thank you very much."

Draco tried hard not to dwell too much on the thought that Potter called his figure 'perfect.'

When they rounded the corner, Draco saw the same boy who glared at him just minutes ago. Now, he's with some other three equally villainous-looking students who seemed to know nothing about decency and proper attitude. Not that Draco was any better back in the days.

They turned their heads and saw Potter, which understandably made their eyes glow in awe. But then they saw Draco their entwined hands, which made them, scowl in the ugliest possible way of scowling. They sneered at him and one of them spat on him, literally spat on him. Good thing he disgusting virus-filled mucous missed his healthy body and ended on the floor. Draco did not notice that Potter stopped, so he continued marching stiffly until he unceremoniously bumped unto Potter. When he looked, he saw Potter's blank face staring at the area where the saliva of the mannerless boy fell.

"Potter," Draco whispered, gripping Potter's tensed shoulders. He very well knows what would be coming up next.

"May I ask why your parents chose Hogwarts for you?" Potter voiced suddenly, never taking his eyes away from the spot. His voice was cold that it made Draco shudder.

"Well...err- to learn properly? And...because it's one of the best schools?" the boy who spat nervously answered.

"I see." Potter slowly turned his head to them and looked at them evenly. "If I were your parents, I'd be really ashamed of you knowing I sent you to one of the best schools but you still haven't learned a shit. And with that, Potter pulled Draco and they walked away, leaving the dumbfounded ugly fifth years-or maybe fourth years, fuck he didn't care.

"Wow. Never knew you could be so dramatic," Draco commented unhelpfully when they arrived in front of the painting of fruits. "Wait a minute, to think of it, before I thought only Slytherins know about this entrance to the kitchens. How did your Gryffindor brains managed to find this?"

Potter tickled the pear. "Insult us as much as you want, but remember that Gryffindor House has the brightest witch of our age and the two historical pranksters of all time."

Draco and Potter ate leisurely whatever they wished as the elves went fussing all about. They asked for a little picnic set that they could bring along with them. They also talked a bit. But no one dared to mention what happened earlier.

"So, Potter, I'm a Slytherin so naturally, I'm all perfectly made for doing crimes such as sneaking around past curfew hours. But are you sure your Gryffindor righteousness could handle this?"

Potter smirked haughtily as he wiped his hands on his trousers. "You don't have any idea, Malfoy."

Draco merely gave a raised eyebrow in question to the smugness of the brunette.

"Yes, we'll be sneaking around past curfew. Which is now. But, we'll have to cheat a little bit," Potter announced, standing up and grabbing his backpack. He unzipped it and fished something out.

"Cheat a little bit?" Draco echoed.

Potter nodded and presented Draco a blank parchment. "I swear I am up to no good," he whispered.

Draco was about to say that of course they were up to no good when suddenly, lines and letters appeared on the formerly blank parchment. Potter was not talking to him, he was saying some kind of a password to the bloody parchment that turned out to be a...a map. Hogwarts' map.

"Obviously you already know that this is a map of Hogwarts." His finger pointed on two dots. "That, that's us. See our names? Yes, this map also shows people and where they are. Plus another catch, every hidden room or passages are also here."

Draco blinked. Shit, so this was how Potter stalked him around Sixth Year. He wondered how many times Potter opened the nap just to search for Draco's dot

"There's still another one," Potter said now leaning closely to Draco. Merlin, there's the treacle tart scent again.

He watched in silent awe as Potter fished out a transparent silvery fabric from the inside of his backpack. It's an Invisibility Cloak. Merlin's bald head!

Without thinking, Draco reached out and grabbed the Cloak. "I do think I have every right to say that it's bloody unfair how you can be the Boy-Who-Lived and at the same time also own these things! The privilege should also be shared to others as well!" Draco looked up to see Potter watching him fondly, a genuine smile playing on his lips.

Draco coughed.

Potter started. "Should we go now then?"

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

This was surreal. Absurd. Fucking insane. When he thought nothing could go crazier when Potter asked for a Seeker vs. Seeker match in a very friendly way, there came Potter asking him to help him in Potions. And now this. Sitting with Potter on the same table in the library was one thing; to be huddled closely with Potter inside a tight Invisibility Cloak that could barely accommodate his height was quite another.

Okay, so maybe he's just a bit astonished with the fact that he utterly did not expect when he woke up this morning that he'd end up pressed against Potter, walking in rhythm with him, and having the scent of treacle tarts, Quidditch broomstick, and just-distinctly-Potter-fuck-it lingering all over his nose.

"Filch," Potter whispered, his raspy voice hovering over Draco's ear.

Both of them halted to a stop, as they warily watched Filch and Mrs. Norris passed by. The cat gazed at their direction, looking all sinister and deviant. Potter and Draco stopped breathing. Fuck, they're in trouble. Draco was already counting how many possible points he could lose Slytherin when Filch picked up his cat that stopped walking. They exhaled heavily in unison after Filch turned around the corner.

"That was fucking close," Draco muttered behind Potter. As he was behind Potter.

Potter’s head turned in an awkward angle, trying to face Draco. "You don't have the least idea how many times I went through that." Then a smirk ghosted his lips. "And how many times I was able to get through without one speck of a dust," he boasted.

In this close proximity and with Potter's side view profile presented in front of him, he could clearly see the vivid green eyes behind those appalling think round glasses. Potter's jaw and nose--and Merlin, his whole face--looked really refined, really refined that if he were a sculpture, Draco would say it was perfectly carved. And Merlin forbid, those red lips-

"Malfoy?"

Draco snapped out of his very inappropriate and will-be-denied-ever-happening musings. "Hm?"

"I think we should get going now," he whispered. "I planned to show you a secret passage I discovered back in fourth year."

Soon, they were facing a blank wall of a dark alcove, still huddled inside the Invisibility Cloak. Draco watched in secret fascination as Potter tapped a brick three times and a passage appeared. When they're already inside, Potter tapped a brick inside and the entrance disappeared and was replaced by a blank wall. He removed the cloak and stepped aside to shove the Cloak inside his backpack. Draco immediately missed the warmth of Potter's body and-

Fuck. Let's just all pretended he did not think any of that.

And since Potter was finally at least a metre away from Draco, his mind started working properly. He looked around the dim path. It's about two and a half wide from the left wall to the right wall. Small but not enough to make one feel claustrophobic. He looked at the endless path far beyond that disappeared to a turn and left Draco wondering where this path led to.

Potter seemed to read his mind because at that very moment, he spoke up. "This is a shortcut going to the abandoned Charms classroom. At the end of this path is a wide empty and spacious room."

Together they cast Lumos and marched. It was pretty exciting. That some kind of feeling you get when you've broken the rules without being caught but also, a whole different new feeling that only sneaking around the castle through hidden passages with the Golden Boy can give you. It was exhilarating.

When they reached the tip, Draco granted out a satisfied hum. It was indeed spacious. The path widened slowly as it neared the end of what looked like a room with no door and here, there was more air. Merlin, if one knew a secret room such as this, what a ton of things they could do here. Draco shook his head violently as inappropriate scenes of two naked men conjuring a bed and doing things appeared in his traitorous mind. And nope, the said naked men were not a pair of a blond and a brunette, No, they weren't at all.

"So you're planning to practice your troublesome talents in Pepper-Up brewing here?" he asked, so as to divert his attention from any thoughts of a naked Potter. Sadly, Potter was in front of him and looked really hot that talking to him did not help any matter.

"Potter smiled and went to sit on the cold floor.”Of course not. I told you we were going to find one, right? I only wanted to show you this that's all. These are a bunch still undiscovered rooms, tunnels and pathways around the castle. And they are all here," he said this as he tapped the map--which was according to him, was called the Marauder's Map. "You see, I haven't really got the time before to explore so much, what with all the Voldemort shite."

Draco winced inwardly at hearing the forbidden name.

"And now that it's my last year here in Hogwarts, I pledged to disclose all of this before I graduate."

"And you want to do it with?" Draco folded his arms. He's standing in front of a sitting Potter who's leaning on the wall.

He shrugged. "As much as I want to share this with Mione and Ron, they're just...err...they've been very busy lately with their relationship." Draco rolled his eyes at Potter's subtle description of the sickly sweet couple's public display of I-wanna-puke affection, or rather, public display of eye fucking. "And they've been through so much with the war and even before that just because of me, I guess it's pretty fair to let them catch up with all the times they missed."

"I see, so the Wonder Boy is not getting lost in the midst of his two very disturbingly crazy in love best friends? Better find yourself a love of your life to be as disturbingly sweet with as well." Draco said, realising too late that he just practically told Potter to go and get himself a sodding girlfriend.

Potter smiled at him. "Soon."

Soon? What was that supposed to mean?

"Come on," Potter said patting the space next to him. "It's quite a feat passing by Filch earlier, let's eat some biscuits and rest first."

Draco pursed his lips disapprovingly at the cold stone floor. He's quite unimpressed with the idea of sitting his lovely and priceless arse on such a ruthlessly cold and shitting hard floor. If Potter honestly thought that sitting on that could be legally called as 'rest,' he had another thing coming.

Potter rolled his eyes.

"Should I cast a Warming and Cushioning Charm first, your Highness?" he mocked.

"Don't bother Potter. I'll do it myself since you're wand-handling is quite suspicious to me."

"Oh, of course. It's not as if it did not save the world."

"Git."

"Prat."

Draco found himself smiling as he munched on a Mince Pie. He was about to pour himself a glass of pumpkin juice when a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Potter."

"Yeah?"

"Why...why are you doing this?"

Potter froze for awhile, then he turned to face Draco. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Silence.

Harry sighed heavily in surrender. His eyes darted everywhere except at Draco. "I...well...I thought it'd be obvious by now."

When Draco still kept silent, Harry sighed again.

"I'm trying to make friends, all right."

Draco's eyebrows shot up, giving Potter a disbelieving look. "Would you care to elaborate?"

The other boy fidgeted uncomfortably and looked like he was having trouble finding the right words. Finally, he looked at Draco in the eye, expression unsure but determined.

"I'm pretty much dead sure you still remember that time when we played a Seeker vs. Seeker Quidditch? Okay fine, I admit that I...err...lost on purpose. But that's not because I want to insult you or whatever it was that went to that bloody mind of yours. I was just merely..."

"Trying to be a friend," Draco finished. Of course. Gryffindor fucking logic to purposely lose for a friend.

Potter nodded miserably.

"But then you exploded and went all mad for fuck's sake," he accused, giving Draco a weak and ineffective glare. "So...I needed to change tracks."

"So that was all that Potions tutoring and offers of helping me with DADA about? And now this."

Potter nodded again. Draco could see there's something Potter was holding back. Potter was so Gryffindor at heart he couldn't shit out a believable lie. Not that he's lying this time. The sincerity in those emerald green eyes said it all. In fact, the sincerity was so overwhelming that Draco decided to let go whatever that something Potter was holding back to say. Fuck, just when did he become so Hufflepuff?

"Well then, what could have caused this abrupt change of heart? I always had the impression that you wanted to feed me to the Hippogriff at any moment's notice," Draco said.

Potter laughed. It was genuine and low and masculine. It sounded rather pleasant to Draco's ears. "Well, since we're now having a heart-to-heart talk... As much as I though your face to be beautiful, I always thought it was badly in need of a fist. You're a nuisance to my life and yes, more than once did I thought of the possibilities of feeding you to some atrocious creature if the chance ever presented itself. And I also sometimes think that it would only be a waste of time since predictably, the beast would vomit you back with disgust, probably because of the foul taste from whatever products you put on your hair."

Potter was babbling. But he was smiling. And just how cute was that? Oh fuck, there he went again calling Potter cute. Maybe the elves put something on the Mince Pie for him to have such delusions.

"But I just recently realised that I've never actually hated you. Yes, a strong need to kick your arse, but no, not as far as hatred. I guess all of it was...hmm...childish rivalry?"

"You thought I was beautiful? Wow, many witches would've rolled over like a sick puppy just to hear that from the Savior of the Wizarding World," Draco said while wiping away the fallen crumbs on his precious tailored robe. So Potter thought he was beautiful...

"Shut up, Malfoy. Trust you to notice the most important thing in my speech."

"That was merely my own style of saying I'm flattered, Potter," he said and gave Potter one of his charming smiles, very confident now that he knew he was beautiful in the other boy's eyes.

"Oh, so now I already have the privilege to be the recipient of one of your charming smiles?"

Wait, Potter knew?

Draco tilted his head in wonder. "How could you say it's one of my 'most charming smiles'?"

Potter shrugged, looking away. He proceeded on busying himself with fiddling through his backpack. "I just noticed you smile like that whenever you're trying to convince someone or whenever you're talking to some fit, handsome bloke."

Draco choked as he was drinking his Pumpkin juice whilst listening to Potter. Okay, so Potter had been watching him. That's...well, Draco didn't know. But how in Merlin's 5 feet long beard did he know about him being gay?! Not that it's a secret; he just figured that Potter was too oblivious to notice anything as such.

"Are you all right?" came Potter's concerned voice as he rubbed Draco's back when he started coughing over the spluttered juice.

When Draco recovered, he conjured a napkin and wiped his mouth, trying to regain his dignity.

"How did you know I'm gay?" he demanded, not caring how awkward the question was.

"I...err...Hermione told me," he admitted.

Of course, Granger.

"By the way," Potter said hurriedly, seeming to be trying to change the topic. "Look at the map. You can choose whenever you want to go next, but maybe something like a spacious room such as this first so we could already agree where to spend our late night practices, or rather, my late night practices on Potions. Then after that, we can go anywhere you wish."

Draco accepted the excuse and nodded eagerly, holding the map and raking his eyes on it. Hm...maybe somewhere near the Eighth Year dorms so it would be easier to go back and forth?

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

In the end, Draco chose a hidden area on one of the east towers. No problem getting there since there's also a secret passage that served as a shortcut. They packed their things and they huddled up inside the Invisibility Cloak again. Potter tapped the brick and an entrance--or rather an exit, whatever--appeared. When they stepped out, Draco saw that indeed the abandoned Charms classroom was just beside the entrance.

The secret passage going to their destination was to be found one floor below. As they were starting their progress in walking, an unnoticed stray pebble from nowhere tripped Potter and they stumbled, ending up in a very compromising and awkward position.

In an effort to catch or help or whatever a falling Harry potter, Draco outbalanced himself and ended up straddling the Boy-Who-Lived. They were panting in adrenaline rush at first, but when the realisation of their position dawned onto their minds, both boys quickly looked away. The two of them flushed, no strike that, only Potter flushed. Draco would never flush just because of a stupid, awkward position. He's a Malfoy. And Malfoys don't bloody blush.

He gathered his wits and turned to look at Potter, already raising his left leg to get off Potter's muscular thighs, but he was halted at the sight of a Potter with no spectacles. His green eyes--greener now as ever without that horrendous thing he dare call spectacles--bore onto Draco's own grey eyes. His eyelashes were long, almost girly, but did not lessen even a bit of his masculinity. His eyes were of perfect leaf-curved shape. How could a man be the Chosen One and at the same time be this beautiful?

"Your...your glasses..."

Potter blinked. "Err, I think it fell somewhere..." His head turned here and there, trying to look for his glasses in a limited range of movement as he was pinned on the floor by Draco. Draco got to his feet all at once and stepped aside, straightening his robes from nonexistent creases.

Potter immediately sat up and helped himself get to his feet, whilst still looking around for his spectacles.

Draco saw it first.

He strode towards it and picked it up, noticing a slight crack on its frame, he cast a Reparo on it.

"Here."

"Thanks," Potter muttered hastily.

Damn, this was beginning to get all awkward and uncomfortable. Which was why Draco thanked every possible deity existing when they heard a noise that effectively diverted their attention, especially Potter's.

"Dream on, you're just a coward pretending to be brave," a familiar voice from a distance said.

"And you're just a daft pretending to be smart eh?" And that, Draco's very sure he would bet his life on it, was Caleum's voice.

The two looked at each other in mute agreement then set off to search for the voices. It turned out that Cal and the Ken-kid were in the transfiguration Classroom, wands out in a duel position. Merlin's beard from afar they certainly looked like him and Potter that time in Second year. Except of course, Cal was raven-haired and a Slytherin while the other kid was blond and a Gryffindor. Quite the literal meaning of irony, wasn't it?

"Just tell me when you’re scared, Lewis. I'd be more than happy to escort you back to your dingy little Gryffindor hideout," Cal said, all obnoxious and haughty and Merlin forbid, Draco-ish.

"But Harrison, turning tail is a job done by Slytherins, isn’t it?" Ken kid- Lewis shot back.

"And losing house points is both of your jobs. Blimey, looks like you've been hardworking with that job these days," Potter finally spoke up, making known of their presence.

Both kids started and whipped their heads to Potter's direction, eyes rounded like saucers and jaw hanging. Lewis bit his lip and looked to all the world guilty while Cal's eyes widened in horror of being caught.

"Harry! I- I..." the blond Gryffindor stammered.

"Well, it's not like you two won't cost some points as well. It's already past curfew and you're still out and about!" Cal accused back, pointing a finger at them.

"But that's..." Potter was taken aback by the fact that, indeed, the four of them were not at all different.

"True, but we're not about to have a duel in the middle of McGonagall's classroom where no one can rush for help in case one of you gets injured badly. Seriously Cal, I expected much better from you," Draco said.

He tried to ignore Cal's mutterings that suspiciously sounded like 'as if you were not the same when you were younger'. Instead, he sat on one of the desks, crossed his arms and looked at the two first years sternly.

"Let's have a deal, shall we? We're not telling Slughorn and McGonagall about this, if you'll do the same for us," Draco announced. Potter hovered over Draco and gave him an are-you-sure-abut-this look. Damn all the Gryffindor righteousness.

Cal nodded and swiftly brushed a strayed lock of hair back to its place. Draco saw Lewis' eyes follow the movement. Interesting.

Caleum spared Lewis a glance. "I'm off then," he said and dramatically turned his heels with all that robe swishing, and made his way to the door. Except that, he tripped face-first unceremoniously. Potter's eyebrows shot up, looking so much like struggling to stifle a laugh. Draco rolled his eyes, but still took pity on his favourite Seeker for such an epic failure of a grand exit. When he turned he saw Lewis' worried face, which at first seemed like a show of mock concern, but was actually real concern etched on that youthful face.

Oh, so he's worried. For Cal. That's saying something. Maybe there's actually something more beyond their animosity?

Draco coughed and stood up as he mentally kicked away the nagging thought of how familiar the whole thing was. Not to mention, the voice of Pansy saying "Darling Draco, I'm reasonably certain you've long crossed the thin line between hate and love. Oh, what a cliché, I think I'm gonna puke."

Draco snapped out of his reverie just in time to see poor Cal trying to regain his balance and standing up with his stance rigid. He went on his way as if nothing happened. The Ken-kid or Lewis or whatever followed suit and ran out of the room, wisely avoiding Potter's reprimanding gaze.

"Whoa...can't believe we did not notice them in the Marauder's Map," Potter commented after some time.

"Guess we've been too busy with out own foolishness," Draco replied with a smirk.

Potter shrugged and started for the door. "So still game for hunting hidden passages, Draco?"

Draco was surprised to hear his given name through those Gryffindor lips. It was strange how 'Draco seemed so unfamiliar yet perfect partnered to that Gryffindor voice, how Potter stumbled with the 'r', how his lips curved to a circle in the 'o'. It made Draco feel warmth and some other unexplainable weird feeling that will never be admitted out loud.

“But of course, Harry.”

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Okay, so maybe Draco was nursing a little crush on Potter since fourth year. And maybe even before that, who cares. Maybe later it was a bit ignited by some need to pin that impossible prat to the nearest wall and snog him senseless. But that's all. Nothing else.

So why, in Merlin's name, did he stay up all night thinking about Po-Harry?-

After their 'illegal adventures', Draco found himself unable to sleep at 3 in the fucking morning. He had kept on shifting here and there, shutting his eyes tight, hoping sleep would finally take pity on him. Instead, images of Harry's smile and naked green eyes came flooding without his consent. Fuck, even remembering that moment when Draco ended up straddling the other boy's lap sent sparks straight to his groin. Why couldn’t Potter just leave him alone in peace?!

Oh and of course, let's not forget Potter's "Draco" which sent an army of warmth and fluttering sensations in his stomach. Harry was everywhere. And it's not good. Draco kept on---as hard as he might not to--thinking about every single conversation they had and Merlin help him, looking forward to more of their night out sneaking plans. And fuck, why was it so easy to go from Potter to Harry?

Argh, help me.

What could Harry be doing now?

Was he sleeping peacefully or was he also wide awake like Draco?

Was he thinking about him too?

What does he look like when he's sleeping?

What does he look like when he's sleeping on Draco's bed instead?

What does he look like naked on Draco's bed?

Fuck, Just fuck.-

Well, he tried to reason to himself, maybe you're just thinking too much about him because this is all new to you. You’ve been enemies for Merlin's sake. It would be perfectly normal for you to get all agitated and disturbed with the recent event. It's an entirely reasonable and absolutely not insane reaction. It’s healthy. It's fine. You're fine. It's all just because of the strangeness of things. Behave Draco Malfoy. Breathe properly. No need to think too much. This does not mean you're bloody in love with-

WAIT. In love?! Did he just think of the possibility of falling in with that self-centered and insufferable and dumb and bloody handsome and fucking fun and sodding righteous of a Gryffindor? It's just coping up with all this fucking peculiarity caused by one Harry Potter and that's all. He's. Not. In. Love. With suchahorrendousbutreallyadorablegreeneyedbloke.

That's it. He's sleeping.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Draco woke up with dark bags under his eyes and a blooming headache. What a very nice way to start his day indeed. And of course, as proof of his reliable luck, he was endlessly assaulted by Blaise' enquiries about, according to him, 'his and Harry's midnight dates'.

He dragged his feet, or rather, Blaise and Pansy dragged him, to the Great Hall. The smell of delicious food cheered him a bit and he proceeded to make himself a cup of coffee. Nothing could be better than a wonderful cup of heaven-sent coffee.

He was already enjoying himself, drowning in the delicious sensation of coffee, forgetting all the shite of the world...until Harry entered the Great Hall together with his friends. Unlike Draco, the git was smiling, looking really radiant and happy. His aura was bright and practically glowing. Had a pretty good sleep now did he? Draco seethed. And at that instance, all of his thoughts and musings about Harry came rushing back and hit him pretty hard. The smile, the eyes, the "Draco"... He scowled with utmost feeling. It's very unfair, unjust, and not right at all. How could the git be so happy and smiling when Draco here was suffering from lack of sleep and too much stress that, by the way, was caused by him.

He’s angry.

Harry turned to him and smiled.

Draco smiled back.

Shit.

Maybe it's not that bad, all these absurd things with Harry. Maybe thinking about Harry was not that bad at all, quite tolerable, actually. Just so long as he would not dwell too much on thoughts of...love.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

The rest of the day went by smoothly. As usual, the classes were all right. He's reviewing his Arithmancy and Transfiguration during his vacant time between classes and Harry. He ate decent lunch-. He still received fitful glares here and there. Everything was all right, save for some little odd events. Let's start with the one courtesy of the Weasel and his bushy-haired girlfriend. They've been throwing weird glances at Draco, probably suspecting him of menacing their dearest friend? Well, it's not like he could blame them for thinking he's planning to drag Harry to the dark side. Everybody who had seen him and Harry together practically had the same idea in their so-pitifully-daft minds.

And another odd thing was when Harry 'accidentally' bumped him along the corridor. As he had said, Harry was as good as a Pygmy Puff in acting. Draco was very sure that he bumped him on purpose.

"Err...sorry for that, Draco," he had said with a sheepish smile. The prat couldn't even look at Draco straight into his eyes. "Bye. Still need to catch Charms, I'm probably late now. See you later," he stammered hastily then ran ahead. Draco was pretty sure that the Charms classroom was the other way.

The last odd thing was still by Harry. The whole tapping of his foot annoyed Draco to the peak. He kept casting sidelong glances at him and seemed to be waiting for something. Finally, Draco asked what the matter with him was. He only blinked many times and then denied whatever it was. Draco resisted the urge to suggest a visit to Pomfrey.

Nevertheless, everything went on normally. Now he's lounging on his bed and writing a 7-feet long essay about the importance of Moonlight Petals as the main ingredient of memory-enhancing potions. Blaise was writing as owl for his new French girlfriend and Pansy was rudely rummaging through Draco's bag.

"Where the heck was that essay of mine that I asked you to review, Draco?" she said, irritated.

"Asked? More like forced,'" Blaise commented on the side.

"Use your hand, Pansy, not your mouth," Draco added helpfully.

"Oh don't worry, I'm good at using both. Blaise here especially knows that," she retorted with a smirk.

"Of course you are. But Merlin shut up because I'm struggling doing a French letter-sex here," Blaise said.

Pansy muttered about unreliable friends with small dicks as she fished out Draco's Transfiguration book and began leafing through it, hoping her essay was inserted somewhere.

"I-" she stopped mid-sentence but Draco didn't bother looking up. He's already too engrossed with his essay.-

"Blaise, come here!" he heard Pansy whispered loudly.

There was a shuffling, some more whispering, and...snickering? Well, he didn't give a fucking dime because he's almost done with his essay. He didn't until...

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Blaise bellowed, making Draco's head look up. That tone, that voice, fuck, that meant trouble.

Draco raised a questioning eyebrow and gazed warily at a small piece of parchment held by Blaise. Blaise staged a cough and then started reading out loud.

Draco,

I really enjoyed hanging out last night. This coming weekend we’ll be allowed to go to Hogsmeade. I thought perhaps we could go together since I told Hermione and Ron to have a bonding time together, just the two of them. It’s all right if you've already made your own arrangements, I guess I'll just ask Luna. And if you're thinking why you would bother coming with me at all, well, I think it's pretty obvious that Christmas is already weeks from now. What's more obvious is my lack of talent in choosing gifts, so I badly need you to make some snarky remarks.

PS. I forgot to ask a follow-up question about the sanitary exercises of the Chocolate Frogs. Since they can move and all, do they also piss or something?

-HP

 

Blaise and Pansy burst into laughing. Draco snatched the parchment and gave them a death glare.

"It's not for me. So why the fuck did the two of you gone as far as invading my privacy?" Draco spat.

Blaise threw his hands up in mock-surrender, still barely stopping himself from laughing. "Sorry, all right. Pansy just found it inserted in your-"

"Well. To let you know, it certainly is not funny. You very well knew it was addressed for me, you should've given it to me, not read it--which was very rude in every sense of the word--without my permission. You should be ashamed of yourselves," Draco argued hotly.

"Get a grip, Draco," Pansy chastised, "we were just-"

"No, I’m done with it. The next thing I know, you two will be creeping into the closed curtains of my bed just to check if I've finally shagged your Saviour," he blurted out, angrily but still elegantly hopping off his bed and walked out of the room. Not even bothering to retort Blaise' "He just gets all riled up with anything concerning Potter."

To say that he's pissed off and crossed would be an understatement. Draco was definitely seething with anger and disbelief at his friends' doing. All the teasing and publicly bellowing that he can take, but reading letters meant for Draco--which he had not even seen yet!-and still having the guts to actually laugh about it? That’s certainly crossing the lines of decency already.

No, he was not angry by the fact that his friends went unashamedly into reading a letter addressed to other people. Actually, he's angrier about... Well, he just thought that Harry wrote the letter for him, and him only. He expected for Draco, and nobody else, to read it. Draco could still distinctly remember when Harry bumped into him and his things fell on the floor with Harry trying to help him gather them back together. That certainly explained why the prat had been so agitated the whole time that afternoon in the library, because he assumed that Draco already saw the note and was waiting for either a confirmation or rejection. Merlin, he had been so unstable--and dare he say, nervous--about that.

And Pansy and Blaise only laughed at that.

Anger surged once more and Draco needed to sit on one of the armchairs in the common room to calm himself.

Fine, so maybe he's overreacting over such a trivial thing, but really, those two need someone to teach them a lesson or two sometimes. Though, he greatly doubted they will learn anything at all considering how they only rolled their eyes at Draco's outburst moments ago.

Well, enough of all of this. He still got something more important to handle: Harry's invitation to go to Hogsmeade.

Draco leaned back on the chair heavily, staring at the dancing flames of the fireplace. There were only a few people in the common room that time, which would be explainable since it's already dinner time. The lesser people, the better to think things through. He sighed.

Lately, the lower years which do not belong to the Slytherin house have been giving him a--hmm, how can you put a name on it--more thorough death glares and disgusted sneers. He guessed that it was because being around their precious savior more often now made them believe Draco was somehow in some dark, terrible plan or something. It's not like he cared. If being an Ex-Death Eater taught him one thing, it's to look straight ahead on where you're going and ignore the others who 'accidentally' tripped you along your way.

However, much they target him with scowls or literally spit on him, they could not and would never be able to stop him from getting straight O's and finding a rightful and decent job. Fuck the Ministry. Fuck the haters. They will just gape on him in the end when he wins.

Tilting his head to the innocent coals and hearth as if it held all the answers in the world, he realised he just thought of so much optimism, not caring about others, that he'll be able to stand, that the Ministry could fuck itself. Merlin, he sounded like a Gryffindor. He sounded like Harry. Yes, he stopped caring a long time now. But all the while he knew deep inside that even if he can surpass Granger--which of course, impossible--and be all good and generous, the world would never accept a filthy Ex-Death Eater with the brand embedded on his forearm. At least not until...

"Come on Malfoy, fuck them all. Well yes, you made a mistake, you were a Death Eater, but you were only forced to do all that shit. I bet there are many other people who, may not have or had been following some raging mad dark lord, are more than ready to kill just save themselves. But you're not like that. And don't even give me any of that 'you don't know me' bullshit. Because for the sake of pygmy puffs, you're brilliant. Insanely so. Hermione is the brightest witch of her age and, in case someone still need to point this out, you're always second-next to her. Fuck, nobody else can do that, Malfoy, nobody else can come second to the brightest witch except for you! Can't you see it? You have a very wonderful future waiting for you, and the Ministry can fuck itself," Potter, Harry all but exclaimed with flying gestures and wide expressive eyes.

And maybe Draco's feelings for Harry got a bit deeper after that. Just maybe.

Right there and then, Draco realised how much Harry had changed him. He sat straight, sure and certain. He mentally thanked the roaring fire for helping him think and giving him warmth. He would've said a proper thank you if not for the fact that he didn't need someone to actually think that he had already gone mad. He got to his feet and marched out of the common room. He needed to find Harry.

He didn't care if going to Hogsmeade with him would be a bit insane. He didn't care if some jerk from the Prophet would take a picture of them and write nonsense about his apparent plan to corrupt their Golden Boy. He didn't care if people will try to kill him by their looks. Harry needed someone to accompany him. And if he wanted it to be Draco. Well then, he'd be more than happy to accept the privilege.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Days passed by so fast and before Draco could even blink, the day before the Hogsmeade Saturday already arrived. There were still so many things to do of course, one of which was smacking Harry's head for his horrid ideas for gifts. He also already had a plan laid out for them even though Harry kept on insisting that going to Hogsmeade won't need a schedule and that they should just go to wherever they felt like going. And of course, Draco argued. In the end, they agreed on one thing, Honeydukes will be on top of the list.

Draco was musing about all the possible other decent shops to go to when Cal's voice shouted.

"Draaaaaaco!"

Draco winced. He turned to the little brunette and arched a skeptical eyebrow. "How did you manage to get inside the Eighth Year dorms?" he asked, tone suspicious.

Cal smirked haughtily, then a scowling Harry came into view. "Harry let me in," he sang.

"More like tricked me to let him in. Bloody Slytherins," he muttered, but only with little disdain and more of amusement.

"Hmm... So what could be the purpose of Mr. Harrison for coming here? I assume it is important?"

"Well, as Harry's chosen first year, I'd like to take part in making plans for tomorrow. It will be my first Hogsmeade visit and I refuse to be dragged just anywhere you boring adults will go," he declared, raising his chin up and putting his hands on his hips as if it would intimidate anyone at all.

Draco sketched a contemplating expression. As part of the Interhouse Unity shite, the eighth years were tasked to one first year from a different house to bring with them to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Poor Harry had been victimized by Cal's cunning ways. Although he would never admit it, he's secretly pleased to have his little Seeker along with them.

"Of course, Cal. As if I have another choice."

Cal's face cracked into a smile and he sat next to Draco on the rug by the fireplace, followed by Harry on the other side.

"So who did you choose to bring with you?" Harry asked. Draco observed Cal's sudden interest to the topic even though he feigned nonchalance and continued on scanning the parchment of tomorrow's schedule.

"I was thinking of choosing a Ravenclaw," Draco answered casually.-

"Thinking? But you must decide now Draco, it's not like-"-

"Ravenclaw?" Cal interrupted Harry. "But Draco isn't that a bit...predictable? Never saw you as predictable before, looks as though I'm wrong."

Draco tried to suppress a smirk. Cal was forgetting that he's talking to a Slytherin as well, a Slytherin for seven years and a half now. He knew when someone was trying to outsmart him. And he also knew very well what Cal wanted to get out of this.

"And also," the little brat continued, "don't you think choosing a Ravenclaw would not help much on your reputation? I mean, this is about unity after all. The best thing you can do is to choose someone from a house Slytherin is not very fond of,"

That would leave Draco choosing between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and Cal knew very well that Draco would rather suffer from oozing righteousness of Gryffindors than spend a whole day with a ridiculously soppy Hufflepuff.

Cal will get what he wanted, but before that, Draco will play a little bit more. "Fine, Gryffindor it will be then. I do am considering that girl named Alicia, she-"

"Alicia?" Cal shrieked. "But Draaaaaaaacooooooo!! She's got a month of a banshee! Believe me when I say that a whooole day with her would be a nightmare."

"How about Ken?" Harry spoke up.

"Hmm... But I believe Caleum here has a huge animosity with Ken. Correct me if I'm wrong?"

Cal scowled, as if the very sound of Ken's name annoyed him so much. He then returned to scanning the schedule and said without looking at them, "With that said, I'd rather spend the day with that nuisance than end up in Azkaban for murdering Alicia."

"Decided. Ken will be my very own chosen annoying-brat," Draco announced, now confirming his suspicions that Cal had a crush on the Ken-kid while the other one pretty much felt the same. Huh, puppy love.

Hours later, Cal excused himself saying he must return to the Dungeons already. Draco and Harry remained in the common room with a few others and talked about the snow that's starting to fall outside and how winter came a bit early.

It was quiet and peaceful until Blaise and Pansy stride in.

"Isn't it a boring night despite the upcoming Hogsmeade trip tomorrow? How about we play a little game?" Blaise announced loudly, making all the other eighth years in the room turn their heads.

"What do you suggest?" Finnigan asked from his lazy position on the sofa.

Blaise -smirked, his eyes glistening and looking mischievously at Draco. "Spin the Bottle 2.0."

"Rules are easy," Pansy was the one talking now. "No worries about Veritaserum or your deepest darkest shameful secrets being revealed. Because here, no truths, only dares. We spin the bottle and the lucky--or unlucky-- person will be the victim. We spin the bottle again and this time the person it will point to will be the one to give the dare. Fun isn't it? So, who's in?"

There were a few nods and slowly, a circle was formed at the centre of the common room. Draco turned to Harry who only shrugged. He sighed. Anyway, nothing's gonna hurt with a little fun right? Together, they stood up and joined the little circle.

The day after Draco's uncharacteristic outburst--or what Pansy as 'his Potter thing'--Blaise and Pansy went to him bringing a suspicious box. According to them, when the world was showered with humility, Slytherins might had been partying somewhere and missed the particular occasion which was why saying sorry would always be a so-not-Slytherin-thing-and-so-Hufflepuff-it-hurts. But since Slytherins were cunning and knew how things worked in the alliance system, having a row with the most handsome and influential Prince of Slytherin would end them in the pit of hellish existence and heartache for life. After saying all these nonsense, they handed him the box which was labeled as 'peace offering'. Draco almost choked out his lungs when he saw that inside the box was a magically-controlled dildo with the words ‘Harry Potter's Weenie' scrawled on the shaft.

Now, his two madness-ridden darlings were up to something again, of that he's sure. But there's no harm on a little game, right? He's a Slytherin, and that's exactly why he knew he'll regret involving himself in whatever that was. But he guessed that he's just already tired of arguing or trying to say no to them. He just hoped this scheme would be slightly tamer than usual.

"All right, here we go!" Pansy cheerfully said as she spun the conjured bottled which eventually stopped on one of the Patils. Padma spun it again, and it stopped this time on Boot.

Smirking, Boot dared Padma to do a striptease which was eagerly accepted by her. Soon, there were already in the umpteenth spin and a thousand horrid dares had already been given--including Draco's dare of eating slugs to Finnigan and now, Harry needing to do a tequila shot on Blaise as dared by Goldstein. Draco refused to remember--or even think about--the latter.

"Please spare me any homophobic drama," Draco teased after Harry had done his bidding, which was the nightmarish tequila shot on Blaise of all people.

"I will...if there was any. If I'm homophobic, I would awfully be a hypocrite."

Draco turned to face him and raised his eyebrow. "You mean to say...?"-

Just as Harry was about to answer, fucking Blaise interrupted.

"Whoa, it's our wonder boy again this time," he bellowed as Draco gave the bottle--which was pointed at Harry--a suspicious glare. Blaise continued, "Let's see who'll be executioner, shall we?"

Harry obliged and spun the bottle, waiting who would be the one to give him the dare. Draco watched as the innocent bottle whirled around. It now began to slow its pace and everybody in the room leaned in anticipation.

Then he saw it.

Draco saw it.

The slight twitch of the bottle as if turned on purpose. The subtle flick of Blaise' wand. The hidden smirk in Pansy's face.

They're manipulating the bottle! Or rather, Blaise was using magic to manipulate the bottle. Draco would know it, he's the one who taught them that spell after all.

Predictably, the nose of the bottle stopped in front of Blaise. The damn prick had the nerves to smile smugly at Draco. It was clear that Blaise knew that Draco knew what he's doing.-

Merlin, what do they want now? Draco thought desperately as he watched Blaise and Pansy exchanged glances. Blaise smiled triumphantly at Harry. "Don't worry Potter, I'll make it easy for you. You saved all our arses after all."

Harry eyed him warily and scooted closer to Draco.

"All deities know how cock-hardening it felt when you pressed your lips on my upper arm and sucked in that tequila shot. Fuck, for awhile I actually considered going for homosexuality and leave my straight hormones in a lonely dark room." Blaise' eyes roamed Harry's body in what could only be described as molestation. A hex or two went into Draco's mind that moment. Blaise gestured his hand to Draco. "And my friend Draco here had always been a very good friend to me. And, therefore, I would like to share the privilege of having felt the lips of the Wizarding World's Wonder Boy. And we all know that Draco is oh-so-gay from head to toe. So, Harry Precious Potter, I dare you to kiss Draco Malfoy on the lips."

Draco's eyes went impossibly wide. And if his peripheral vision was to be trusted, Harry was mirroring his expression.

"And with tongue," Blaise finished smugly, seemingly very proud of himself.

The room went from dramatic surprised gasps to an utterly awkward silence.

The silence stretched so long until…

"You know," Pansy broke the silence, "if you don't really want to, it's fine. This is just for fun. And we did not really agree on possible curses or whatever consequences if ever the 'victim' won't do the dare."

Draco was now definitely seething with anger. How could he be dumb to join the game knowing it was Pansy and Blaise?! Now he's doomed. Now he's fucked up. Now he'll just have to wait for Harry's declaration of disgust on the mere idea of kissing him and-

"No, I will do it."

Wait, what?

Oh no, no no no. No. Fuck.

Draco turned to face Harry, wincing at the sight of pure determination on the other boy's face. "Damn all this Gryffindor shite Harry. I know this is against your will! You can't! This is absolutely and Merlin-forsaken absurd. I-mmmph..."

It had taken forever before Draco realised what's happening. Harry was kissing him.

Harry was kissing him.

Him.

Fuck.

Harry's lips proved to be not only soft to look at but also soft to feel. So very very soft indeed. Their lips locked as if they were meant to be joined that way, as if they were made to be that way. He felt Harry's tongue peeked out and grazed his lips, hesitantly at first, then it became determined and started pushing, pushing, through Draco's closed lips. The idea of Harry's tongue grazing his lips left Draco feeling faint and excited all at the same time. He gasped. Harry took advantage of Draco's slightly open mouth and pushed through, invading the blonde’s mouth.

Draco thought for a moment how badly this could result for the both of them and for their new-found friendship, but then Harry swiped his tongue against his and Draco felt his eyes rolled back. They were kissing now. As in real kiss.-

It was messy, hungry, and really untidy; tongues devouring everywhere, fighting and owning; teeth clanking against each other; angle so awkward it made Draco's neck ache in protest. Draco was breathless. Literally.

They broke apart for air, both boys panting and looking wild. Harry's green eyes were staring intensely at Draco's, their gaze locked to each other as if they were the only people in the world. But, unfortunately, they were not.

"That was hot," Padma remarked in the midst of catcalls and cheers.

Saying that the situation was awkward would be an epic understatement. Their eyes began darting everywhere, trying to avoid one another's eyes. Harry's face was flushed and was becoming redder and redder now. And Draco couldn't say he's not the same. The two of them didn't even notice that Harry's hand was still cupping Draco's jaw and that Draco's hands were still tightly gripping Harry's shoulders.

They withdrew their hands immediately. The atmosphere became even more tensed, in every sense of the word.

Yes, they kissed, but only because of a dare. Draco needed not to remind himself. Fuck, he even reckoned that Harry only went with it so that Draco would not feel rejected. Which was of course, a typical Potter shite. And knowing Harry he's fairly sure this would not and could not break whatever it was they had now. The git was just so painfully righteous like that.

That night Draco dreamt of soft lips, green eyes, and Hogsmeade.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Draco thought that their trip to Hogsmeade will be as awkward as eventful happenings, but it turned out that Harry seemed to have hit himself with something hard and acquired amnesia since he went out and about pretending that nothing happened. Damn, he's really good at doing that, wasn't he? Nevertheless, Draco was more than glad to go with it.

"The Harpies will kick the arses of those loser Cannons!" Cal declared, fisting the air.

"Cannons will win this time so shut your mouth Harrison," Ken countered.

The two had been arguing all throughout their walk on the frosty snow-packed ground of Hogsmeade. They were heading to the Honeydukes, determined to get some sweets to cope with the cold, snowy weather. Draco sighed and tried to recall at least one good reason why they should be bringing little brats with them. Nothing came.

"There’s still every chance they would," Harry spoke up, joining the pointless conversation.

"Cannons? You can't be serious! They suck in every possible way," Cal shrieked, waving his hands dangerously.

"Unfortunately, our dear Harry here is an avid fan of that horrid team. He particularly jumps up and down and giggles like a girl every time he hears their name," Draco supplied, earning a glare from Harry.

Cal gasped dramatically and whipped around to face Harry, stopping him in his tracks. "But you can't be! You're Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World. And the Chudley Cannons are...Chudley Cannons."

"Harry shares the greatness of the Cannons, Harrison. That's why he likes them," Ken declared smugly.

Cal scowled at him. "Shut your mouth Lewis or else I'll-"

"Or else he'll snog you to death," Draco cut in, teasing the now-flabbergasted Cal.

"Why would I even, in one moment of my precious life, think of snogging- a daft Gryffindor?" he demanded, pointing an accusing gloved-finger at Draco.

A first-year girl who was with Brown and was only passing by turned out to be listening and inserted, "Obviously, because you have a flaming crush for Lewis."

Judging by the green and silver muffles and scarf, she's a Slytherin. In fact, Draco knew her name.

"Euffie!" Cal exclaimed, cheeks burning hotly. "Sticking your nose on other people’s business as usual, I see."

"Oh please, it's not like you don't benefit with my daily updates on the latest issues," Euffie said.

Cal huffed and crossed his arms. "You certainly had the wrong update this time. It's entirely impossible to have a crush on your nemesis."

Draco pretended not to hear anything, or relate to anything.

Euffie smirked. And how Pansy-ish was that! "Your nemesis or your boyfriend?"---

"Oh, fucking shut up now, Jones. I'm starving and I'm bloody cold, so could we get going now?" Ken, who was silent all the while, complained. Harry readily agreed.

Draco noticed that Ken's face was flushed, and he suspected that the cold was only partly the reason for that.

 

•••••••|•••••••

The moment they stepped inside the warm and inviting Honeydukes, Draco was famished. They ordered cups of hot chocolate and cupcakes, they then settled at a table beside the glass windows that featured the vibrant people tracking through the cobbled pavement of Hogsmeade.

Draco peacefully ravaged his cinnamon cake while trying hard not to stare at the way Harry licked the chocolate smudge from his lips every time he took a sip of his hot choco. It was quite a feat, but Draco thought he had managed.

After the delightful and satisfying snacks, each one of them ordered a take out of their own cravings. On their way to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, their pockets were already full of shrunk Chocolate Frogs and other delicacies. They then bought necessary supplies to survive a few weeks more before Christmas holidays came such as self-refilling quills and smudge-restraining parchments. Later on, they decided to split, the two kids going to the Three Broomsticks with the Weasel and Granger and their first year babies, while Harry and Draco will be grating their arses in search for decent gifts that Harry will give to his no-ending list of giftees.

They headed to the small bookstore next to Scrivenshaft's and Draco had to endure all Harry's whines and groans about what to buy. Thankfully, he survived.

"What book can you buy a witch who had already read everything, Draco, everything?" the git was muttering, apparently in despair.

"For fuck's sake Harry, with all of Granger's barely secret making out sessions with the Weasel, I'm fairly certain she has missed a book or two now," Draco said as he browsed the bookshelves.

They also bought books for Lovegood--who against Draco's judgment--was actually quite fun to talk with. Next, they went back to Honeydukes, obviously to find a gift for the glutton Weasley.

Clearly, Harry was not just an insult to fashion, but also an insult to the tradition of gift-giving. He actually planned to buy a bunch of chocolate frogs or a jar of Bertie Bott's for his best mate. He's bloody insane.

"What's wrong with my idea?" Harry asked. Apparently, gift ideas confused him.

"It not even an idea, Harry. It's so horrid that I refuse to call it as such."

Harry scanned the displayed goods and turned to Draco. "What do you suggest then?"

"I suggest that instead of buying something that Weasley obviously already has or something that he can just buy anywhere if the mood strikes him, buy something special, unique and fucking expensive."

"I suck at this," he said mournfully.

"Of course, you do."

After that, they went to other various shops buying different things for various people in Harry's disturbingly 5 feet long list of people to be given gifts for the Christmas holidays.

Two hours later, the two boys were walking on a deserted part of the village, just enjoying the snow and the smell of woods and frost. Draco watched as his boots sank on the white blanket of snow and left tracks. Winter had already officially set in and chunks of snow were falling around them. A dry ice-cold breeze blew to their direction and Draco cast a Warming Charm at them both when he felt his lips started to chap and his nose freezing. Potter smiled at him and buried his gloved-hands inside his warm pockets.

Ever since that kiss, Harry had never mentioned it. They just went on as if nothing had happened. Harry seemed to be okay with it, and so was Draco. If Harry was okay with pretending that the kiss never existed, Draco would also be as well. At least, that's what he told himself.

Suddenly, he noticed that Harry stopped walking. He turned around only to find a cheeky grin on the brunette's face and his hands hidden behind his back.

Draco lifted an eyebrow. A second after, a handful of snow was splattered on his face. Harry's laugh resounded in the silence of the woods.

"Hm, weren't you told that it's dangerous to start a fight with a Slytherin?" Draco asked while flicking his wand to create a pile of snowballs, preparing for the upcoming war.

Harry smirked. "Show me then."

The moment he said that, his smirk was already erased by Draco's first attack. Soon, more flying snowballs were exchanged and shields were built. Draco found out that he's not the only one with superb snow spells up his sleeves.

Moments later, the two were out of breath and laughing incessantly. Harry took a step forward to close their distance.

"Draco," Harry said, voice low and hesitant.

The blond looked at him. "You're not gonna tell me that you've forgotten one last name to add on that horrendous list of giftees, are you? Because Harry, I think it's my job to tell you that being the Boy-Who-Lived is enough for you. You don't need to be Santa Claus now," Draco scolded the amused brunette in front of him.

Harry was wearing green shirt topped by a jacket as big as the Manor. His trousers were a faded black and matched the size of his jacket which sadly did not feature the git's nice arse. His matching scarf and gloves were stripes of gold and red, offending Draco's eyes with too much Gryffindork colours in sight. The git's face was flushed with the coldness and his lips were chapped but still looked impossibly delicious--Draco would never admit that even if he was threatened at wand-point, though--and the offending glasses were not going anywhere. Draco wondered just how the bloody heck could this goofy-smiling man still look so sodding hot and handsome despite the hideous style of dressing and the terrifying wild-animal-nesting thing he dares call as hair.

"Well...I was thinking of Hermione's second-degree cousin..."

"Oh no, no no no, Harry James Potter, you are not gonna shit on me. I strongly decline to-"

Harry laughed.

Draco pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the chuckling man in front of him.

"No need to widen your eyes like- like saucers, Draco," Harry struggled to say as he was busy laughing at Draco's face. Eventually, the prat recovered and he straightened, lips stretched into a smile. "Don't worry, no more of my list that can very much compete with Santa Claus' and no more of my patient-straining suggestions for gifts."

"I tell you Harry, that's the most assuring words I've ever heard my entire life," Draco said with a dramatic sigh of relief.

Harry laughed heartily and took a step forward, they were now only inches apart.

Draco inhaled the sweet and woody scent of the man in front of him. "Although, I'm fairly sure you've forgotten one-mmphh!"

Harry's tongue smoothly darted past Draco's lips and tasted everything of him. Draco moaned, not caring anymore of pushing Harry away or pretending that he didn't like it. Because fuck, the git could kiss. Draco kissed back with equal enthusiasm and their tongues met in a blasting sensation that went straight Draco's hopeful groin. It was not messy unlike their first. This time it's long and sweet and oh so fucking good. Harry gripped at Draco's hips and Draco's arms were now wrapped around Harry's neck. Harry nibbled at Draco’s lips and licked it before breaking away to gasp some very-much-needed air.

"You were saying?" a breathless Harry said.

"You forgot one person," Draco replied with a pout, never untwining his arms from Harry's warm neck. "My name was not on the list."

"Well, there's no need to put your name there if I already have a gift for you right?"

Draco smiled. Fuck, his heart was beating wildly and his nerves were unstable. Damn. He's in love. With Harry Potter.

Of all people.

And the said Harry Potter leaned in for another kiss. This time without hesitation and even dared to stray his hands down to settle it on Draco’s arse, squeezing in appreciation. Draco groaned at Harry's mouth and raked his hand through Harry's impossibly soft raven hair. He reckoned he made it even more disarrayed than it already was.

With the height of the heated kiss, Draco's knees gave up and he stumbled back, his arse caught by the snow-covered ground. Harry followed, stumbling on top of him. Their chests were heaving in the same rhythm, eyes locked unto each other, lips parted and bodies tingling with so much excitement. Draco felt his trousers getting soaked and his legs and arse getting uncomfortably wet. But he didn't give a fuck. Harry's eyes were intense and were locked only at him that it felt as if they were the only people in the whole world. Draco shivered, not because of the coldness but because of so much warmth to be the centre of such attention.

Harry, who was supporting himself with his hands on either side of Draco's head, pushed his thigh between Draco's legs--and fuck did that feel so good--and pressed his lips again on Draco's. The blond responded eagerly, hooking his hands on Harry's shoulders and drawing him closer. Harry tilted his head to make the kiss better and started rubbing himself against Draco. Draco moaned. Why had he not done this before? He didn't know; mind's too occupied with kissing to bother with his brain's unnecessary questions.

His hands left Harry's hair and went its way down down down, feeling for Harry's waistband. When he finally managed to find it, he shamelessly started fumbling on Harry's fly.

"It’s still fucking snowing around us," Harry murmured between kisses.

"Let the bloody winter do its shit. I have my own business here."

Harry laughed hoarsely, his voice husky and rough. They kissed again, and this time, Harry was actively participating in the get-naked-as-soon-as-possible marathon. It was all so good, so Merlin-thank-you good, so-

"I wonder where they are..."

"I still want to eat more blood-flavoured lollipops..."

"Come on, you can still have that the next time..."

"The next time would be two years from now! We're only here because of the unity shite, Ken!"

Harry and Draco broke their kiss and looked at each other with wide eyes, both looking all thoroughly debauched and flabbergasted. When the noise grew louder and nearer, the two reluctantly separated and got to their feet. Draco cast a Drying Charm to both of them. When Harry asked why he used some strange charm and not simply Scourgify, Draco merely rolled his eyes and told Harry in a way alike talking to a child that "Scourgify is lame charm that does nothing but ruin the credibility of my very fine tailored-trousers, Harry. I made a Drying Charm myself that suits very well with the quality of my clothes."

No sooner, the two little brats that interrupted their precious activity came into view. Ken's arm was slung around Cal's shoulders and Cal was furiously waving his hands here and there as if trying to explain something complicated at a frowning Ken. When they saw Harry and Draco, they smiled wildly and raced to them, boots crunching through the snowy ground.

"Finally, we're beginning to think you two had already rented a room in Hog's Head to fill up the undeniable sexual tension hanging all oooover the air between the two of you," Cal exclaimed the moment they reached them.

Draco maintained a straight face, all the while knowing that Harry was awfully blushing.

"Uh huh, and how about you two? It seemed to occur to me that something happened, seeing that Ken was slinging his arm around you moments ago. Dare I say...you two are friends now?" Draco countered. When Cal started opening his mouth to give a retort, Draco beat him to it. "As much as I'm thrilled to hear about your new-found affinity with this blond Gryffindor, I think we should get going now since it's already about time for us all to gather back to the Station."

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

The day had ended very very nicely. The entire trip back to Hogwarts, Cal had been incessantly complaining about being deprived of the right to buy more blood-flavoured lollipops. In the end, Ken saved them all from the danger of being deaf by surrendering his chocolate frogs to the noisy Slytherin. They were able to walk back to the castle in silence. Oblivious to the kids who were having their own moment, Draco had been humming with energy and exhilaration. And so was Harry.

Sadly, when they were back to the castle, Harry's friends crowded him and Blaise and Pansy came to him as well. As a result, they were not able to continue their interrupted activity. Very sad, indeed.

They had shared a knowing glance before they parted as their separate circle herded them to different directions. The Golden Trio was heading to the grounds; his not-so-much friends herded him to their dorm.

When they got there, the two wasted no time in shooting questions at him. Draco winced in protest, but he knew very well that he had no choice. Better answer as subtly as possible than face the wrath of one Pansy Parkinson. He retired early to his dorm that night and went on to continue reading the novel he'd been unto for weeks now. He would've finished it earlier if not for the unusual events with one Harry Potter.

He sighed and tried to calm himself from the overwhelming excitement for tomorrow, a tomorrow that meant he and Harry would see each other again. He was already five pages through when Blaise came barging in, bluntly disturbing Draco.

"My very smart and handsome friend, I need your help," he said as he sat on Draco's bed.

The blond sighed and closed the book, marking his place in it. He then faced the dark-toned man. "Thank you for such honest words, Blaise. What the fuck do you need now?"

"Aww, don't be mean. I'm pretty sure you're in a good mood since you just had a date with Harry 'I-do-not-have-a-crush-on-him' Potter. Now, you're a man of words, Draco, my friend. You need to help me in making this bloody list!"

Draco peeked at the parchment in Blaise' hand. "List?"

"Yeah. Remember the list that the sodding psychiatrist wanted us to make? A list about what we want to do in the future? Well, I didn't make any, thought it was just a waste of time. Turned out the woman was a real psycho, not a psychiatrist. She insisted that I should make one blah blah blah... By the way, I'm pretty sure you already made yours. What is it?" Blaise said.

Draco tilted his head and thought of all the lists he made, which were all thrown or burned or ripped apart. Except for one. He remembered the silly list about what he'll do if ever Potter will be his boyfriend. That was all surreal, eating in Fortescue, shagging in Quidditch showers... He even listed there something like Harry letting him win in a Quidditch match because...wait. That did happen. That time when he got furious because Harry purposely lost. It happened. And so was the one about him teaching Harry in Potions and Harry teaching him in DADA. And the sneaking around Hogwarts and repairing Harry's glasses. And the snowball fight...just awhile ago actually. It all... Wait, to think of it, where was the list now? He could not remember throwing it anywhere, casting Incendio on it or tearing it into pieces. It was...

Fuck. Fucking shit.

He lost it. No, he left it.

The last time he saw it was in the library. That day when he was reading a book about charms. That day when Harry smiled at him. He left it.

And there's a very good chance that the Golden Trio stumbled upon it.

Just fuck.

"Draco? Are you all right? You look pale," Blaise said, but Draco barely heard anything.

He was fucked up. All of it. All of this. It was all a lie. A pretense. Potter was messing up with him. He knew that Draco had feelings for him and so he went and tried everything on that bloody list. Maybe to see what will be his reaction? He could very well see the three of them laughing at how easy he is.

Potter was just playing with him.

And Draco just let him.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Harry was practically jumping up and down that morning. Everything was going well. Everything- was on the right path. Finally. Finally.

He buttoned his shirt while humming some undiscovered tune. He's restless, giddy, and just-so-excited. It must be really obvious, seeing that Ron and Neville were throwing him odd glances.

"Had a nice dream, mate?" Ron asked- they were putting on their socks.

"More like a nice day yesterday," Harry replied with a grin. "Thank you very much mate. Couldn't have done it without you."

Ron patted his back and smiled at him. Together they went to the Great Hall.

Harry never saw Ron as a love expert, much more someone to ask advice from regarding Harry's once-fruitless love life.

That's why it surprised him when one day, Ron approached him and said things. He literally told him what to do to woo Draco Malfoy.

And behold it all proved to be effective.

Harry's very proud and thankful indeed.

When they entered the Great Hall, the first thing that Harry did was to seek for a particularly blond head. He felt warmth settled in his stomach when he saw what he's looking for.

Draco was frowning at his toast, probably because of some annoying thing caused by Blaise or Pansy or both. Draco always complained about them even though amusement was clear in his tone.

Hermione was already there when they arrived. Harry proceeded to sit beside Ron on the bench and immediately placed various foods on his plate and got himself a glass of Pumpkin Juice. A good day must be started with a full stomach.

Harry did not notice anything wrong until he tried to catch Draco's eyes, but the blond refused to look at him. He was disturbed at the very least. But Harry thought that maybe Draco was not yet ready to publicize their relationship. He just hoped his right.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

It turned out he's not. When Harry went to the library in the afternoon, Draco was not there. That was the first time Draco didn't show up. Maybe he was not feeling well. Harry tried to force his mind to think.

When he entered the common room, he found Parkinson and tried to approach her, but she only glared at him and sniffed in disgust. Okay...so something's really not right here...

He saw Zabini enter the common room and braved talking to him. The bloke looked at him with pity and sighed. He did not say anything apart from confirming that yes, Draco didn't want to talk to him or see him. Harry tried asking why, but Zabini said even he himself didn't know.

What the fuck now?

It was hopeless. What should he do? Should he ask Hermione for advice? Should he go to Ron? Should he stop depending on his friends and just be a fucking Gryffindor and go talk to Draco?

He decided to be fucking Gryffindor and tried to talk to Draco, but no one answered when he knocked on his room. He waited in the common room all night, but Draco did go out of his room at all. He went to bed, defeated.

But he could not sleep and stayed awake all night.

 

 

Draco strode through the halls of Hogwarts- with Pansy by his side. Ever since that Saturday when he suddenly gone sour and the mere sound of Potter's name riled him up, Pansy never left his side. He didn't tell her anything, but she did not need to know. That's the nice thing about Slytherins, they don't need to speak in words, and they could already read each other's minds.

Because of Pansy's swift building of barracks around Draco, Potter could not do shit. He tried not to, but he did. He noticed that Potter was trying to talk him, was trying to do something.

This time, Draco would use his brain. Oddly enough, Potter had been good at persuading and dare he say it, in Slytherin ways at times. Maybe Granger was helping him. Of course, Granger was helping him. Draco would not be surprised if the Golden Trio merged to bring him down. Or more accurately, make fun of him.

So now he's not gonna listen to Potter. No, he will not listen. He will hex his balls, curse him, shout at him, but never listen to him.

"The Headmistress asked for you," Brown said, coming up to them. She was referring to Pansy.

"And for what reason?"- Pansy enquired.

"My guess is as good as yours. My task was only to tell you that." She gave Draco a quick glance and a brief nod before walking away.

Pansy turned to him with hands on her hips and pursed lips. "I need to head to McGonagall. And you, go straight to our dorm and to your room, and don't stray anywhere," Pansy said, sounding very much like Draco's mother.

Draco immediately vanished- the weird thought. "Of course, where else will I go?"

Pansy's eyes nailed him and narrowed to dangerous slits that meant no fooling around. Although Draco must admit that a gravely serious Pansy was as scary as a wild animal, he felt very much grateful for Pansy's concern.

When Pansy left, Draco decided that his bladder should be given attention first walked to the loo. Pansy had been very insistent that she should go anywhere Draco went, even to the loo, that Draco resolved to hold any urge to deposit urine for awhile so he could escape the incoming awkward moment if the -situation happen to come.

It turned out that Pansy's grievous ways to keep him from Potter went to waste because--unfortunate of all unfortunates--Potter was in the loo when Draco went in.

Potter halted on his way out.

Draco halted on his way in.

Potter swallowed heavily.

Draco stared back evenly.

Their eyes locked at each other: Green vs. grey. Draco's mind reeled back to the last time their eyes met just as intense, when there was snow falling all around them and Draco was freezing to death but he didn't care. He quickly dismissed the thought, locking it away in the deepest corner of his mind.

"Draco..." Potter breathed, his mouth left hanging open as if to say something but nothing came out.

"Potter," Draco said as civilised as he can. He walked past the gaping Gryffindor and hoped that Potter would just leave. Merlin, Pansy will kill him.

"Wait, Draco," Potter said, more firmly now. Apparently, hoping that this encounter would end easily was wrong. It's Potter were talking about, after all.

"Can we please stop this shit? What the fuck is wrong now?" Potter began to shout frustrated.

Well, he's not the only one who had the privilege to shout. "I believe you yourself is so much capable of answering that question, Potter!"

"Five days, Draco, five days! I tried talking to you, tried approaching you, but you kept on avoiding me. And Parkinson...fuck, what the fuck have I done now?"

Draco sniffed indignantly. "Maybe you think that I do not know how much of a joke I am to you and to your little group of Gryffindor shit when my back is turned. But I know Potter. I know. I know what you're doing. Unfortunately for you, two can play at this game."

Potter sagged and looked to all the world like he was in the brink of giving up. His hands raked his hair furiously and he leaned against the wall. "You know. Right, of course, you know. But Draco, you know what now?" he said, no longer shouting. He sounded tired, resigned.

Draco firmly told himself not to believe in Potter's masquerade. "The list? Does it ring a bell? Well, of course, it does. I'm very well sure you had a pretty share of fun scanning it, had you not? As I said, I knew it all along. I played with you, made you believe you succeed, so that I can crash you to tiny pieces when we arrive at the finish line."

Something fierce flashed in Potter's eyes. He stood straight, as if ready for battle. His eyes looked straight at Draco's, determined but not hard. Draco was shaking. He felt his insides sank as he watched this Potter, suddenly looking like the one in the war, the one who felt defeated but fought, the one who lost so many but remained hopeful, the one who died but lived again, the one who killed the Dar Lord but knew that killing him would not bring back the lives of his loved ones.

"Played with me? You mean all of that was not real? Well then I don't believe you. I know that all of that was real. I know it and I know it very much. Say whatever you want, but it will not change the fact that we shared something. And you felt it, you know it, too. I don't give a shit to the sodding list that you mentioned, whatever it is. I don't even understand a word you're saying. I know that you went through so much, and I also know that believing in me is the hardest thing in the world for you, but Draco I-" Potter breathed deeply. "I really do love you."

Draco found that he could not listen to any more of these lies. He left.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Hermione was furious. The Ministry was not taking her seriously. Last week she sent a proposal letter regarding the rights of gnomes and they replied saying that they will be considering it after they finish with the elves. Hermione knew an insult when she saw it. And this in particular, was not that subtle. They don't even contemplate the least about the rights of elves! How can they even finish it?

"Come on, Mione. It's not like it's so awful. At least you got a reply," Ron said as they were walking to their dorm.

"Of course, a reply. A reply which was an insult, Ron!" Hermione said, glaring at her boyfriend.

"Maybe they don't really mean it that way."

"Oh please, it's very unlikely. And stop pretending you're empathizing about this. For all I know, you're very much excited inside to tell me 'I told you so.' Which, by the way, if you do will be the end of your ginger hair, Ronald Weasley."

The freckled-faced man frowned at her. "Why would I be happy if the Ministry is trying to embarrass my girlfriend? Fuck, I would not even think twice in hexing their arses if they do that again. Just so they wait."

Hermione smiled fondly and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Just so they wait," she echoed.

When they reached the common room, they found a miserable sulking Harry in front of the fireplace. They approached him and asked what was wrong, although Hermione already knew what it was. Malfoy. Again.

When Hermione found out that the Malfoy was being hard on their Harry again, she wanted so badly to hex Malfoy and that pig-faced Parkinson. But it's time for Harry to face his own problems on his own, he said so as much. Though of course, she won't hesitate to back her friend up if the situation called for it.

"Mate? What's wrong?" Ron was the one to ask.

Harry sighed heavily. "I talked to Draco. I don't really understand. He accused me of making fun of him. He even mentioned some sort of a...a list. What the fuck that was, I do not have a clue. It's just that... It was going well. Or at least I thought it was going well. Then suddenly he went cold. Again. He can be just so bloody difficult, you know."

"A list?" Hermione's brows furrowed. She knew exactly what Harry was talking about. That list. The one they found in the library weeks before. But Harry didn’t know about it. So how come?

She tried to share a knowing glance with Ron, but when she did, what she found was Ron's guilty face trying to avoid her eyes. Oh, come on, Ron. What did you do this time?

Hermione gave Ron her finest glare with an engraved warning of no going around the bush. The ginger head boy sighed in resignation and looked at her helplessly. He ran his hand through his hair and looked away.

"I...I gave Harry some advice on how to woo Malfoy. But only some! And I...err, told him not to tell you," he confessed.

Harry smiled, unaware of the tension going on. "By the way, thanks for all of that, mate. Never knew you were one to give good love advices. Now though, I need to figure this out on my own. You’ve helped me enough already."

"Oh Harry." Hermione hugged him and kissed his cheek. "We always here to help you, nonetheless. Always did and always will. We will never get tired of that. But now, Ron and I still have to go to the library to research for the Potions project." She gave Ron a pointed look at the last sentence. "Stop moping around. You can have as much pity party as you want but don't skip dinner! Skip dinner or I'll tell Molly," she said softly, but with a warning tone that meant she's serious. They waved goodbye to Harry

When they were outside, Ron gave her a suffering look. "We're not going to the library, are we?"

"Of course not."

"Then where?" he asked, even though they both knew that he knew where they were heading.

"To Malfoy, where else?"

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Hermione dragged her reluctant boyfriend and they went outside the castle, finding Malfoy sitting under a tree near the lake. She marched, determined to fix this whole thing up for Harry. This was exactly why she decided not to show Harry the list they found. Aside from thoroughly violating Malfoy's right to privacy, she knew it would only end up badly. Like now.She was not particularly close to Malfoy, but she knew very much that if Malfoy discovered that Harry saw the list he made, every pride that's left in him would be crashed to tiny grains. And everybody knew it's not gonna end well for both Harry and him.

Malfoy eyed them warily when he saw them coming and sneered when they were finally in front of him. Ron looked murderous.

"And to what do I owe this pleasure of having endowed with the royal presence of Harry Potter's sidekicks-for-life?"

Ron pursed his lips and glared holes at Malfoy, clearly irritated. Hermione's hand was quick and gripped his boyfriend's arm, giving him a warning. They're here to fix things up, not to worsen it. Ron's freckles were turning red now, but thankfully, he managed to keep his surging anger to himself.

"Ferret," he muttered silently under his breath.

"We here because Ron wants to talk to you," Hermione said, earning a scrutinizing raised eyebrow from Malfoy and a what-the-heck look from Ron.

"The Weasel? I see. Do I have to call for a translator, because I believe I'm not that much capable of understanding the barely coherent sentences the gingers might struggle to say an-"

"Malfoy can you just shut that foul mouth of yours even for a sec or I will really hex your balls off," Hermione exploded, breathless and quite surprised with her sudden and rare outburst. When she looked around, it seemed like she's not the only one.

"Ahem," she managed. "I mean, can you just hear Ron out without those unnecessary snarky remarks?"

Draco crossed his arms and granted a curt nod.

"Good. Now, Ron?"

Ron blinked at the mention of his name. Hermione gave him a meaningful look.

"Oh. Uhmm...well," he stammered, then- sighed. "I don't give a fuck if you'll believe me or not but it's my best friend who's on the line here, so you better listen if you don't want to turn into a ferret again." He paused. "About the list, well...Harry didn't know anything about that. He didn't even know it existed! Hermione and I found it in the library, inserted inside the pages of the book you had been reading that time. Hermione we should keep it from Harry because-"

"Because I knew this would happen," she interrupted, throwing an accusing glare at Ron.

"Err yeah. And well...if you think Harry's only making fun of you, he's not. He didn't know about the list and fuck, I never thought I'd have to say this in a million years, Malfoy he likes- you. You know, the kind of like when someone wants to be somebody's boyfriend or girlfriend."

Malfoy looked at them blankly, face barely readable. "Certainly explains why Potter did many things written on the list if he's not supposed to know it even exists. Say it's- coincidence and you'll suffer your lifetime without a prick, Weasley."

Ron huffed in indignation. Boys, Hermione thought. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Malfoy. That's why I'm here. It's...it's actually my fault."

"Oh, taking up everything as your fault? Typical Gryffindor."-

Ron's face was red now. "Can you just fucking shut up? Merlin, I want to strangle you. Listen, believe or not I don't want to do this because I know you're a prick and I'm already extending so much patience, but I'm doing this for Harry. Days after we found your Merlin-forsaken list, Harry told us about his apparently new-found feelings for a certain insufferable blond pointed git. It made me want to puke but Harry's my friend and what makes him happy makes me happy as well and yes, we're a bunch of soppy idiots. So I accepted that revelation. And then remembering that list made me think that wow, my friend still has a chance. Great. Nice. But Hermione said that he shouldn't know about the list because it will only bring shit and at least we know now that you might actually be feeling the same. But Harry's so thick and oblivious when it comes to things like this that I couldn't take just dropping hints on him anymore so I went and advised him what to do based on what you fucking want to do 'if ever he'll be your boyfriend'. I told him to let you win in a Quidditch match. I told him to ask your help in Potions and help you in turn in DADA. I told him to show you the secret passages and rooms around the castle. I told him to have a snowball fight with you. Because apparently, those are sweet and romantic for Draco Malfoy and Harry must know that instead of moping around all just because the said Malfoy always shies him away. Damn Malfoy, can't you grow up even for awhile? Do you really have to rile up on Harry like that? And what if he really did know about the list, do you really think that he only did that all to get back to you? Aren't Slytherins supposed to be smart? Why are you so daft at this?" And with that, Ron left, face and ears all smoking with anger.

Hermione was gaping and even Malfoy was speechless. She felt very proud of her boyfriend.

"It's up to you now, Malfoy," she said and then turned to leave.

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

Harry rubbed his eyes in the effort to will sleepiness away. He was walking to the Great Hall for dinner as if he were floating. He really needed to sleep. Badly.

He slept late finishing a forgotten assignment in Potions because the beautiful blond that always reminded him about his essays and assignments is now far from speaking a word to him. And the fact that he couldn't sleep thinking about him didn't help matters as well. What if he'll just pretend to be sick so he could sleep in the infirmary? Nope that won't work. Madame Pomfrey was too smart for that. Maybe he should just-

"Oi!" Harry exclaimed as a hand suddenly pulled him out of nowhere into a dark alcove. When he looked who his kidnapper was, he found two amused grey eyes sparkling with mischief. Draco. His Draco. And just how did the view in front of him made his heart flutter wildly. But wait, what the heck was he doing here, pinning Harry to a wall in a dark alcove and smiling at him?

"Draco, what the he-" Before he could even finish his sentence, Draco was already kissing him.

Draco’s body was pinning him to the wall, his hands raking and pulling his hair. The blonde’s lips were determined, desperate, as if there's no more tomorrow. Fuck, the kiss was hot. The angle was awkward and there was too much clanking of teeth for his liking, but fuck, it's hot. And delicious. And perfect. Harry's stomach was filled with gleeful butterflies as he realised he never thought he would have this again. Just how he longed to have these lips against his again, to have this warm lithe body wrapped in his arms again, to have these talented hands running through his hair again. He thought he had fucked it all up, but now Draco was here. And everything seemed to perfectly fit together again. He gripped Draco's hips as he strived to kiss back with as much as he could give. He didn't know how and why this happen but- Wait, to think of it, why was Draco kissing him? Wasn't he supposed to be crossed?

Harry reluctantly broke the kiss, pulling the blond gently away from him. They were panting. Draco's dilated eyes looked straight at him, wanting, devouring. Did Draco accidentally drink some kind of a lust potion or something? Harry's heart constricted. If that's the only reason why Draco was kissing him, then there's no reason to get his hopes up. When the blond tried to kiss him again, Harry placed a stopping hand on his chest. Confused grey stared at him.

"Listen," Harry began, "I don't know why the heck did you suddenly pull me and snogged me or if you're currently potion-induced, but this will be the only chance I could get. Firstly, I'm not playing at you. Promise. I like you. I really really do. You're blond. You're insanely gorgeous. You're grey eyes give me chills, good chills. You're fit, hot, sexy, whatever else you call it. You're funny. You're smart. You make witty remarks. You pretend not to care for others even though deep inside you really do. With you, I can be just an ordinary person and not the Boy-Who-Lived that everyone sees. And most of all, you're brave. You keep on insisting you're not, but you are. The whole world stepped on you, but you stood up with head held high. I like all of that about you. I-... I love you."

Harry was breathless with all the talking, but he was happy. Being able to say all of that out loud made feel relaxed, as if a big heavy weight had been lifted from him. He just hoped Draco listened.

The blond only scowled at him and Harry felt his heart sank.

"Seriously, did you really think I'm still mad at you? I just kissed you for fuck's sake."

Harry blinked. Does that mean...? "Does that mean we're fine now?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Whatever Potter," he said as he pinned Harry again and started nipping and licking his lips fervently. Harry gave in without second-thoughts, kissing back just as hard and passionate, trying to convey the truth in his words to the kiss. Strangely, an image of Hermione suddenly popped into his mind. And then he remembered it.

"Fuck," he muttered.

"Hmm...yeah- sure. Your room or mine?" Draco replied, purring as he nibbled the soft skin between Harry's jaw and neck.

Harry snickered. "Mine, of course. But that's not what I meant. Mione threatened me to report to Molly if I skip dinner today. And you know us, Gryffindors can really be scary when provoked."

Draco pouted and Harry struggled not to be deceived by the cunning Slytherin. "But how about the fuck?"

And right there and then, Harry knew that this was what he wanted, what he needed, what he loved. He did not make a mistake. And for the first time, he had hope again. He had hope that maybe life won't suck that much for him anymore.

The raven-haired kissed the pout away and grabbed the blond Slytherin's arm, pulling him gently. "Come on. Let's continue the fun later. Dinner first or you'll face Molly's wrath."

Draco sketched a shudder. "Oh dear, not the Weasley hen."

 

•••••••|•••••••

 

10 years later

Diagon Alley

 

Draco crossed his arms, unimpressed with Harry's efforts. "Please do tell me why you are scanning this stall of albums and picture frames. You are not, in Merlin's name, thinking of buying those as a gift, are you?"

Harry stood up from his position and frowned. "I thought we're here to buy gifts for those two.”

"Yes we are."

"Then of course I'm contemplating on buying these. What else can we give at a wedding?"

Draco sighed in surrender. Some things never change, not that he didn't like it. He actually kind of grew fond with the odd things about this man in front of him. "Ye horrid taste for gifts still haven't changed, I see. Hermione had already surprisingly progressed with her gnome rights drama and Ron had already long accepted that Cannons has 0.1% of winning, but apparently, the Boy-Who-Lived's antics won't ever change, or progress for that matter."

Harry faked an indignant glare. "My gift-choosing talents have improved you know, " he insisted.

"Optimism is good."

"Fine, you do the choosing while I stand behind you listening to your lecture about unique and standing-out gifts," he grumbled, even though both of them knew how Harry liked listening to Draco's prim explanations because he would always have a good laugh at how serious his husband was for such small details. They would then have a little childish fight and of course, the best apart, make-up shag.

"I think we're in the wrong shop. However, that shop across looks pretty interesting-."

The couple exited the shop with respective smiles and nods to the owner and then they crossed the cobbled street. Upon entering, Draco immediately jumped unto searching for the perfect and unique wedding gift. Harry, on the other hand, just stared at the wonderful reflection of Draco’s hair against the noon sunlight, making it glow and feature Draco's perfect pale skin and vibrant face. Harry licked his lip at the sight.

"I still can't believe they're marrying now. I mean, they're still so young," Harry said, breaking the silence in the shop.

Draco poked on a dancing figurine. "We've had this talk for the umpteenth time now. Cal and Ken are 21 now Harry. We married when we were 20 for Merlin's sake."

"Still," the brunette insisted.

"You're insane. Remember the 'Draco, life's too short' speech of yours just to make me say yes? How about the 'I almost died twice, I need to marry you now before the third time comes around'?"

"I had a point!" Harry said, gesturing wildly. "And also neither of them almost died twice, so still."

Draco faced his Harry and cocked his head. Some things really did not change. He chuckled and kissed his frowning husband.

"It not funny," Harry said, sulking.

"Well, I actually just realised that we've been married for about eight years now. Wow, Draco Lucius Malfoy married to the brave and noble Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, for eight years. Who would've thought?"

Harry smiled warmly at the blond. "If somebody had told me thirteen years ago that I'll marry pointy blond git who taunted me every second of every day and will adopt four annoying brats, I would've laughed at his face.”

Draco snorted. "Better thank that damn list after all, eh?"

"Hmm...I'm more than thankful actually. Especially, to the owner of the said list," he said as he snaked his arms around Draco's waist, pulling him into a deep unhurried kiss.

"Ahem," an unfamiliar voice interrupted.

They parted immediately, both blushing furiously. Draco reprimanded himself mentally that snogging in public places was a very questionable manner.

"What do you gentlemen need, aside from the room?" the stout man who's seemingly the owner of the shop asked with an amused smile.

Draco cleared his throat. "We would like to buy this," he said, at a figurine of a lion and a snake facing each other as if in a duel, but when touched, the snake would loosely wrap its -body around the lion in a friendly--or even sweet--manner.

\--After paying for the said item, they left the shop.

"To think of it," Draco said, looking at -the orange-tainted sky. "I have already done everything on that list, mostly not intentionally. But I've completed it all...except for..."

"Except for what?"

Draco smirked and dragged Harry to walk faster to the Apparition point.

"Where are we going?"

"To the Burrows."

"Burrows?"

"Uh huh. Let's just hope that Ginevra is home and Neville is out. I still have some 'snog him ---in front of the Weaslette' thing to do."

 

FIN


End file.
